Take Me Back
by Razer Athane
Summary: You, so lost, in tiny pieces. Him, so alone, with a bitter heart. And me, forever in your soul, tormenting you with my darkness. -Just Like Me Prequel- COMPLETE.
1. Open Your Eyes

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech.__If it is in italics, then it is thought.  
If it is in __**bold, **__then it is the individual's natural tongue.  
If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil._

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_Disclaimer__: Don't own any characters except Razer, the gang (excluding Hwoarang) and any other non-Tekken characters that appear throughout the duration of this story. All other characters belong to Namco. No further disclaimers will be entered, as they ruin the pace of the story.  
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Author's Note: Well, here is the last definite story I am bringing you featuring Razer, Seong-Hada and the rest. A lot of you were interested in how Razer and Hwoarang met and grew up together, and were interested of their times together _before _the events of _"Just Like Me",_ which is set during the King Of Iron Fist Tournament 3. So I decided to write it out and bring it to you. Updates will be slow at first, however they should pick up as times go by. If not, have permission to bite my legs off XD

The pairing is strictly Razerang, and because I have to cover six years, I'll be jumping around a lot, sorry to say. In this first chapter, Hwoarang is thirteen, and Razer is twelve. You can see how the story evolves from there as I post the chapters. The outlook currently looks to be… thirty-nine chapters, simply because of the time period I have to cover. It may creep to forty though I doubt this. In addition, the chapters will be longer because I have to cover so much. Mind you, this is not evident as of yet, but trust me, they _will _get longer. When I was originally a hardcore Jin x Razer fan, I used this as an excuse to write Razerang continuously. It was my justification for finishing _"With Me" _as a Jin x Razer, but as time went by... The more I thought about this story, the more I realised that it shouldn't end that way, and that's why I made the alternate endings.

But then my brain started ticking. Seeing as you guys think a _Tekken 6 Story _would be nice (I'm still taking opinions, by the way - nothing is set in stone), I would undoubtedly branch that off of Jin's Epilogue. So to correspond for a... 'sequel'? To Hwoarang's Epilogue, this story serves as one. Basically like, a collection of memories or something, or the two of them thinking back. But that's not really the case. **This is the prequel to "Just Like Me", and that is what it is at its most basic and truest level.** Actually just ignore this whole paragraph of ramble.

Furthermore, seeing as this is before the events of _"Just Like Me", "Better Than Me"_ and _"With Me",_ what I once referred to as _Devil_ in Razer will be referred to as _Devil _once again. She hasn't had her massive adventure yet, so it is fitting to keep the description as I had it originally in _"Just Like Me"_. Mental speech has been eliminated, so anything that has a singular quotation mark around it is now strictly text messages (like this: 'hi noob, this is a sms'). lol. To add, those who were curious about _"With Me" _and didn't jump on the bandwagon, now is your chance because this is the first story in the arc. Welcome aboard! XD. But anyway. I myself an probably going to read this as it should be read once its done - _"Take Me Back" _first, then the other three. lolololololololol.

I've brought this out earlier than I was going to because I wanted to thank you guys. And to show my gratitude for my readers and reviewers, I've posted this chapter up right now. Also? It's still Valentine's Day in some parts of the world, so consider it my little gift to you guys. Seriously. **Thank you, **for _everything. _And _wowww _that's a big author's note, I'm really sorry! On with the story! :)

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_**Chapter One: Open Your Eyes **_

"Dude?"

"Uhhh…?"

Someone snickered, "So articulate."

The Greek youth finally managed to peel her eyes open. A crack. Just a crack. She felt far too weak to open them any further. On the other side, behind her own eyelashes, she could vaguely see a human form, sitting next to her. Who could it be? And more importantly, why did that person even care…?

Razer was as good as dead, last she recalled.

So then, why was she still here, breathing, feeling, being in an immense amount of pain?

There was a gentle touch on the shoulder, and she was shaken lightly, "Hey?"

Athane did nothing slide her eyes closed, shivering, still possibly in shock.

"Dude!"

The youthful male voice was suddenly interrupted. It was a deeper male voice – much more commanding, controlling, authoritarian, firm… Everything related to that, "Hwo, she's exhausted. Let her sleep and stop pestering her."

Hwo? Who in the world was this 'Hwo'?

"But –"

Don't drift off too far now, will you?

The 12-year-old jolted up into a sitting position immediately before screaming out in agony. Her eyes were wide open now, and she could see a redheaded boy and a brown-going-grey haired man jump in surprise. The boy, 'Hwo', whatever, had been sitting next to her, and tried setting her back down gently by the shoulders. The man lumbered over and assisted, both hands under her back.

"Relax, just relax," The man had whispered, seeing how her eyes were darting around in panic, "You're safe now."

It took her a good long moment before she spoke in shaky English, "What happened…?"

The man sat on her left side, hands sliding out from underneath her back, one hand now pressed lightly on one shoulder, trying to keep her down. He looked to the boy for a moment, talking in a language she didn't know, before looking back at her, speaking in English, as the boy stood and left, "My student found you passed out in an alley nearby, two days ago… You don't remember?"

Razer paused for a moment, trying to develop some sense of thought through the agony. She remembered waking up in some place she didn't know, cold, aching, bloody, and she remembered that same boy running over and squatting down to her level. She could see some more pictures, though faint, one that included that man being seen through her eyes over someone's shoulder, but as for speech, she heard nothing.

The man frowned a little, "Looks like you don't…"

"Kind of…"

The boy returned with a glass of water and a couple of pain killers. He forcefully put them in her quivering hands, and behind furrowed eyebrows and cold sienna eyes, he almost appeared to be worried. He sat back on her right side and spoke quietly, turning away, "Take them. You'll feel better."

Not wanting to question either of them due to her weak state and the fact that she felt like shit, Athane shoved the pain killers into her mouth and drank all of the water. According to the man she had been out for two days… That was a long time to go without water. 'Hwo' reached out and took it from her hands once more. He had looked back at her, and looked at her eyes for a moment, as if that held a 'thanks'.

"**I'll put this away…**" He said in some language, looking away once he found that 'thanks'.

The 12-year-old groaned in pain once more, turning her head to the man, "Who are you…?"

He was sitting cross-legged in the chair by her side now, confident that she would remain lying down on the spare bed. With a little smile, he spoke slowly, as if to keep her calm, "My name is Baek Doo San. I am a Tae Kwon Do Teacher…" He looked over his shoulder, pointing to the boy leaving, "And he is Hwoarang, my student."

"Hwoa_rang_? Hwoa_rung_? How do I say that?"

"Either, he doesn't care."

"Where am I…?"

"South Korea. As for where you are right now, you are in my dojang, where the two of us live."

A slight nod.

So they were talking in Korean… Interesting.

_Who're you…? _

One thing she remembered before passing out was that to communicate to this… voice in her head, she had to _think _at it, not speak aloud. Either way, this thing scared her. Then again, she was accustomed to fear. What Razer didn't understand at the moment was why she wasn't screaming at these two to go away, and getting up to run away as fast as her wounded body was able. It was almost as if she trusted them already…

Ah… trust. Such a fragile thing. But you are trusting them too soon, or at least, relaxed around them… What is to say they have not done something to you whilst you slept? What is to say one will not do something to you now? You know, that Hwoarang kid has been eyeing you strangely since you've woken up. He might try something once this Baek person leaves. A shame that you will be so defenceless if this does occur.

Pain slapped her up the back of the head, and she groaned, eyes closing once again, trying to put a hand to her head, failing because she was so sore. The arm just fell back onto the soft surface beneath her, the bed, and lay there, motionless. Every breath she took was so painful. It was as if –

She heard footsteps approaching again, and she assumed it was Hwoarang returning. Baek's voice accompanied the sounds, even after they long left, "What happened to you…? Why are you so wounded…?"

"I… don't remember…"

In truth, she did, but there was this massive blank between her Father's cruel activities, and her waking up with Hwoarang running over to see how she was. And to be perfectly honest, Athane did not want to remember one thing, though she knew that the times at home, though freshly abandoned now, would remain in her mind for many years to come, no matter how hard she tried to forget.

What was she going to do now…? She couldn't just stay here…

What a wonderful question, mortal. You are in a foreign country, heavily wounded, and somehow did not die from bleeding to death due to the wounds inflicted by your abusive Father, who is dead. Your Mother is also dead, and everything you have ever known went up in flames two days ago. You have no knowledge of the Korean language, have no place to go, and no way of healing up if you do not stay put. You have no goal, no help… No _life_.

"There has to be some explanation," Baek murmured, giving her another chance to speak.

"I don't remember what happened," Razer replied with a firmer voice, eyes opening once again.

Hwoarang finally cut in. It was as if there were words hovering on the end of his tongue, desperate to get out into the open, "Your name was Razer, right? You said you're from Greece?"

"Razer Athane, and yes I am from Greece…"

"How old are you?"

"12-years-old."

"How'd you get here?"

"I don't remember."

"Do you think the authorities are looking for you?"

A pause. Pfft. No way that the Greek authorities would be looking for her… As far as they were concerned, she was probably dead like her parents, in their home which was now probably nothing but ash… Her parents remains were probably the same, and so the authorities probably thought the same in regards to her body.

"I… _really… _doubt it."

"What about your family?"

His tone was gentle, was soft, as if almost understanding. Still, her response was fast, "They wouldn't care."

Ah… Suppress, suppress, suppress. Suppress the fact that your parents are dead, that you have no elder siblings out somewhere who could come and save you, that two of your Grandparents couldn't give a shit, and that the other two are too old to try and find you all the way in Asia.

_Go away…_

"You ran away?"

Silence. If the kid wanted to believe she ran away, then yes, she ran away. The 12-year-old wasn't going to say anything about that. Why? Because that simple reason would fill out the rest of story. Maybe in his head she was mugged for everything she was worth, and had been starving, and had collapsed from exhaustion conveniently nearby a place where she may have received help. That clarity would've been enough for him. He didn't need to know what happened, and for all she knew, he couldn't care.

He took her silence as the answer, "So you ran away."

Razer closed her eyes again, the pain still there, but fading a little, probably due to the pain killers Hwoarang had given her. With a sigh, she spoke quietly and defensively, "What is it to you…? I don't matter. I am an intruder in your life. I should be tossed away without a care…"

The Korean youth furrowed his eyebrows, his arms folded across his stomach. What a negative little girl. But he was one to talk… In any normal circumstance, that's exactly what he would've done. Hell, he was pretty sure that once he and Baek returned Razer to her family, he'd just forget her. She didn't matter. She was just another person struggling to survive… like he had been once upon a time.

Perhaps that is why he offered her his hand and hauled her onto his back.

What was to say though that his heart would warm towards her? What was to say that maybe in the future, he'd want her around to annoy and to have fun with? What was to say that she'd get through to him and be a friend? Better yet, why the fuck was he so optimistic at the moment? Why did he even _care_?

No.

_Stop it… _The 13-year-old thought, eyes narrowing. He thereafter reminded himself, _You're cold, remember? _

Still… Just thinking back to two days ago, seeing Razer so alone and vulnerable like that –

_Concern is weakness,_ He pressed his teeth closer together behind the firm line that was his mouth.

But if he strove to be strong… If it was weakness, then why'd he go over and help her anyw –

"How're you feeling?" Baek asked Athane, eyes laced with worry about the stranger.

"A little better, thank you…" She bit out weakly, eyes open again.

The 40-year-old man patted her head and stood, heading towards the door of the spare bedroom (which was _oh so conveniently _next to Hwoarang's, he noticed), "The two of us will leave so you can get some sleep. Sleep is the best medicine here… I'll leave the door open a little bit for you. Give a shout if you need anything."

The youth saw how her unique (what the fuck was he thinking?) green eyes darted around in panic as the elder Korean left her side. It was almost as if she felt very safe in his presence, or relaxed. Her voice died in the back of her throat, and the only reason he heard was because he was so close by, "But… Wait…"

_Don't leave me here by myself! _She screamed inwardly.

A sinister laugh greeted her from the… thing.

"Everything will be alright, Miss Athane," Baek said, looking over his shoulder, walking out, door now half open.

Hwoarang looked at the girl one last time before turning on his heels and leaving as well, eyes still narrowed.

It looks like it is just you and me, Athane. Let's start with the basics of getting to know each other, hmmm?

The stress overwhelmed her system. What happened at home, the injuries, the new places, the new faces…

…The new voice.

If they came in and asked once she woke up, the pain killer put her to sleep, as it relieved her system of the ache. In actuality, she was almost one hundred percent sure it was the stress. Razer heard nothing but the thing within chuckling darkly, each chuckle seemingly bouncing between the walls of her skull, every breath she herself was taking becoming shorter and shallower, until everything faded into nothing.


	2. From The Inside

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech.  
__If it is in italics, then it is thought.  
If it is in __**bold, **__then it is the individual's natural tongue.  
If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil._

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Chapter Two: From The Inside**_

"**What's wrong with you?**"

Hwoarang looked away from the television and at Baek, who was leaning over the back of the couch he was sitting on. He put on the blankest face possible, and looked away, still flicking channels, the remote nestled in his left hand, "**Nothing.**"

"**Don't say that to me. You're worried, aren't you?**"

"**Not really.**"

"**Stop lying.**"

"**No, really, she can die in there and I wouldn't care. Honestly. Not one bit.**"

The elder Korean paused, furrowed his eyebrows, and looked to his left at his student, "**No one's that cold.**"

The 13-year-old immediately stood up and left the lounge room, unaware of his mentor following him. He opened the front door, with the intent of leaving for a while, maybe go for a bike ride, or stroll up to the park and sit by himself; but was stopped by a large hand on his shoulder. He rested a hand on the door frame. His sienna eyes narrowed as he looked over his shoulder, and at his mentor – his voice harsh, "**Let go of me.**"

"**It's alright to be worried…**"

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze trailing from his face to the large hand. His face slipped from blank to concerned, unknowingly, and subconsciously. His right hand, that was resting on the door frame, curled slightly into a fist… His voice, small, "**You… should've seen her, in that instant… when I found her. She was so weak. She couldn't move. …She looked so scared… How did the wounds get there? What if… What if she tried to kill herself…?**"

Doo San finally smiled, glad that his student, the closest person he had to a child of his own, acknowledged his feelings at the moment, taking them from the _knew _Hwoarang couldn't be that cold. It wasn't like him, though that was how he desperately tried to make himself. It was his defensive mechanism, particularly in the early days of meeting someone. He remembered back when three of the boys in his Tae Kwon Do class tried to be friends with him, and how cold the redhead was, until he finally gave in. And when he first arrived at the dojang himself.

The 40-year-old pulled him closer towards him in an act of comfort, "**I don't think that's what happened.**"

"**How can someone feel that way…?**"

Not even in the darkest time of his life did he feel that way. Such thoughts were farfetched and unusual to him. He never understood it, though he was curious as to why, but would never want to make such an effort to bring himself down to that level. The key, in his opinion, to survive, to live, was to stay strong. Strength is power. Power is everything.

"**It depends on what happens in that person's life. Razer looks like she's had it rough already, but from what I've seen of her she doesn't seem like the type to do that. **_**Feel **_**that way, maybe, but **_**do **_**it, no. But anyway, why do you care? You don't know her.**"

His teeth gritted as he pushed past Baek, "**You fucking know why…**"

Of course. Her vulnerability reminded him of his own. And he hated that.

He scratched his arm and closed the door for the youth, "**Sorry. And, don't fucking swear.**"

This made his student grin a little. He was now standing by the girl's door, peering in, his shadow blocking out the light provided from the room. She was curled up on her right side, her head almost falling off the pillow. Her face was scrunched up in what appeared to be pain, fear and nightmare, and one of her hands was resting near her face, which was half clenched. In her sleep she had managed to kick down the covers to her waist.

He frowned a little and slipped inside, but only to pull them back up to her shoulder and keep her warm. It was somewhat chilly for this time of year, after all, and he couldn't have her freeze, and then get blamed by her when she woke up for having this cold. That is, if she was like that, which she may have been.

Baek was watching from where he stood at the front door, smiling to himself. The younger Korean may have been noticeably impacted by finding this girl in the state he did, but even so, it was still unusual to see him tending to her around the clock. Hwoarang thought that his mentor didn't see him slipping in every ten minutes over the past two days while she slept, but he was wrong. The 40-year-old had noted his student putting a hand to her forehead to make sure she didn't have a temperature, checking her pulse, readjusting the covers, flipping the ceiling fan on and off if the need arose, and just sitting there in the room so that if she did wake up, she wouldn't be alone.

It was that last gesture that had intrigued Doo San the most.

"**Do you think she'll be alright?**" The youth had whispered to his master timidly, shying away from the room.

He nodded, a firm 'mhmm' escaping from the inside, before turning away, his student following, leaving her alone.

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"Who are you…?"

Razer's green eyes darted around in fear. It felt as though her back was pressed up against a wall, as though she was in a corner, hiding from the beast lording over her. It did not feel as though she was asleep, but this nightmare felt as real as anything she could've imagined. It scared her as much as her Father did.

Don't you know?

A brief shake of the head was the thing's answer. They were almost identical. They were almost _completely _identical. The same hair, the same body, the same face, the same muscles, the same clothes, the same everything… Though there were a few differences that _screamed _evil.

Two massive, black feathered wings were adorned on the thing's form, and they were pretty large, though they had not been stretched out to full wing span. Coming from her temples were two long horns, and they looked pretty damn sharp. There was a blood red gem in the middle of her forehead, and she had very long claws on her hands. There were black tattoos going all over her body in symmetrical patterns, and something she noticed was the primary tattoo from her hip, where all of this seemed to stem from.

She had that now too, somehow.

The thing had walked up directly in front of her, looking down on her. Athane trembled as she stared deep into the blood red eyes, as though they themselves had an answer to the question that was running through her mind at a million miles per hour. After a few seconds, the 12-year-old covered her mouth, the answer now discovered.

Nice to see that you finally understand.

"You're _me_," She said from behind her hand.

The Her-But-Not-Her thing's mouth twitched into a dark smirk. She squinted to see fangs, and shivered, her hand falling back into her lap.

"But… _how_…?"

It is quite simple really. 

"Then explain it."

It is immaterial.

"…Please?"

A dark laugh emitted as the Her-But-Not-Her person turned away, her arms out and stretching in freedom. She span in a small circle, still laughing darkly, arms still stretched out, and spoke, her voice heaving with everything negative, You will not get anywhere with kind 'please's and 'thank you's. Rise. Grab me by the throat and shake the answer out of me. Force me to bend to your will. Attack me.

Razer watched as she stopped and lowered her arms. Red eyes met her green ones from over the thing's shoulder.

Become the _devil _inside.

Instead of rising to meet the thing's challenge, she had shrunk further back into the metaphorical wall, further into the metaphorical corner, clearly afraid. Why was it being so cryptic? Couldn't it just say straight out what it was? Why taunt her further and make her even more afraid? She was already scared beyond all belief. There was no need to push it any further.

How do you feel? The thing asked, turning back to face the individual wholly, smirking. Her bare feet slid over the metaphorical floor, making no sound as they touched it, Are you afraid? Or are you angry? What about sad?

No response. She felt all three emotions at the moment. Fear, because of this thing. Anger, because this thing did not tell her what it was, or why she was using her own form. Despair, because of losing her loving Mother, the only one she felt she would ever truly love in return, and because she now did not know what to do with her life.

Oh, all of them. I see.

"But I didn't say or think anything!"

The thing smirked and grabbed her by her hair, the bittersweet cry striking her like a blade, If I am you, then surely I know your feelings like the back of my hand. I master your fear, and choose the strength of it. The anger flows in between my fingers, always accessible, and with a swift clench of my hand, it is accumulated and focused. The sadness is every breath you take, through me, and it is inescapable.

Red eyes focused on the water that began to leak from the forest green eyes she had been forced to see out of for twelve years. The smirk widened, and her fangs seemingly glistened in the dark as she taunted the youth, shovelling more fear into her system, Are those tears I see sliding down your tanned cheeks? Are you crying, Athane? 

"No," She replied weakly, trembling, trying to look away, knowing she had lied, but still trying to be brave and strong.

The smirk morphed into a scowl. The grip in her hair tightened, and Razer's head was thrown back, slamming into the metaphorical wall, agony drumming through her mind. The thing stood up, power exerting from her, and turned away, How pathetic. I had to wind up with a _useless_ host… You weak and worthless _monster._

The last sentence struck her as hard as her Father's backhands, particularly the 'w' words. A choked sob rose from the back of her throat. Emotions continued to swirl uphill from the inside, and as the silence echoed, she briefly pondered where she was at the moment. Wasn't she in a dojang in South Korea or something?

We are in your mind. You are asleep.

"Oh…"

Silence occurred. The 12-year-old had many questions, but had no idea where to begin.

Finally, she spoke, "How long have you been inside me…?"

Your entire life. It was not until two days ago was I freed, but in an effort to keep myself, and unfortunately you as well, alive, I had to slaughter your Father by any means necessary, and fly us both to somewhere safe. It was night time and I could not see well, and furthermore I had to land. We ended up here, alive and broken.

"Why did you choose me…?"

I did not choose you. A parent of yours requested me, and passed it onto you when you were born.

Dad.

Razer scowled and bit out quietly, "Who are you…?"

The beast turned around, red eyes alive and shining darkly, and took heavy steps towards her, I am the voice in the night, the undying fear, the remnants of light. I am the mysterious unknown, the bittersweet temptation, the terrible agony. I am the endless nightmare, the crafty deceiver, the ever so sinister… I am the maker, the traitor, and the destroyer. I am the end… and I shall _never _die. The thought of me is eternal, in the bleeding hearts of men, in their narcissism, obsessions and lust. Nothing shall ever destroy me… _Nothing._

She was directly in front of her host now, summoning images, You know nothing. You, and every other pitiable mortal in existence. _All _of you. You are all so small, so insignificant, so… _pathetic._ Yet I know all of you. I know every detail of your miserable existence. The lost little girl, followed by fists of sightless fury from her black past…

Her Father now loomed down on her, striking her hard with his fist. She could barely see her Mother in the background.

The lonely little boy, so like you, trying to be strong, helplessly watching his bitter heart freeze…

That memory faded away. An image of Hwoarang appeared in the place, along with the look on his face when she proclaimed that she should be tossed away.

The caring middle-aged man, still haunted by the dead eyes of his Father from all those years ago… 

Baek's form popped up, just like when she first woke up.

The thing was squatting before her, eyes staring into her own, And me, forever in your soul, tormenting you with my _darkness._

She shivered.

Some may call me Abaddon. Some may call me Beelzebul. Some may call me Lucifer, or Satan. My name is irrelevant, yet in any form, it sends a thousand chills down humanity's spine. When your hope dies, when your light expires, you are left with nothing but darkness… nothing but _me._

Athane shrieked as a clawed hand grasped her throat tightly. The beast got right up in her face, eyes locked in the forest, her coming words venomous, lethal, and firm, I am the demon from the inside. I am the Devil within.


	3. Awake And Unafraid

_If it is in _normal _style, then it is speech.__  
If it is in italics, then it is thought.  
If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue.  
If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil._

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_**Chapter Three: Awake And Unafraid**_

"**BAEK!**"

Still no response. Hwoarang cursed and ran back into the spare room, leaning over the Greek youth. She had screamed out for the third time in her sleep, and the elder Korean had gone off elsewhere. _Where, _he didn't exactly recall, because he had been in his own little world. As. Fucking. Always.

But irregardless, his teacher said he would be home by 4:30. It was 4:31. He was late. Late late late. By a minute, yes, okay, whatever, but he was still _late._ He heard a couple of cars drive by, and assumed one may have been his mentor. He had shouted by a few moments after, hoping it was him about to walk in through the door. He already had his next sentence ready in the back of his throat, but when no response arrived, it died there.

He sighed, irritated and panicking, "**What do I do what do I do what do I do?!**"

She was shaking. She was visibly shaking, a lot, and it was somewhat painful to watch, which frustrated and upset him. The last time she had woken up, Baek was by her side already, trying to calm her down, watching her just fall asleep once more after five minutes of staying awake… And that was three days ago now.

He wondered briefly if she'd ever wake up properly, and not fall back asleep again as quickly.

_Okay… Think, Hwoarang, think… What did Baek do last time?_

He had come in late, so it wasn't as if he saw the whole thing any how. Doo San's thundering voice had made him jump from the back yard, where he was kicking his soccer ball around. He had dropped the ball and sprinted in, and then had his master scolding at him, stating how he had called four times, and only on the fourth time did he decide to 'haul his lazy butt inside'.

From what he had seen though, it was mostly shaking her by the shoulders and calling her name, trying to wake her up from the pain of the nightmare. When she had woken up, the older Korean had asked if she was okay, if she needed anything, and told her to relax. She requested water, which the 13-year-old had left to go and get, but by the time he returned, she had fallen asleep again.

The water was by her bedside still and had remained untouched.

Alright. That's one thing he had to go and do right now. The youth grabbed the water and sprinted into the kitchen, aware of spilling some on his shirt ("**fucking hell…**" he murmured), emptied it in the sink, filled up the glass again, and ran (slower) into the room, successfully avoiding any spilling. He placed it back on the bed side table. Next time she required water, well, it would be right there, and she'd stay _awake _hopefully.

Phase one, complete. Time to initiate phase two.

"Razer? Wake up," He called, hands now on her bare, tanned shoulders, shaking her lightly.

Another whimper alarmed him, as did her head snapping away from him, and slight writhing. What the hell was going on in that head of hers? Must've been a hell of a fucking nightmare to put her in this type of subconscious panic…

A hand violently greeted his cheek and left a stinging sensation thereafter its evacuation. She had slapped him. The little _bitch_… But still, he couldn't exactly blame her. Sometimes he had lashed out at Baek in some of his own nightmares. She must've been fighting or running from something though, to have physically lashed out in this state.

Hwoarang shook her a little more and tried again, "Oi! Wake up!"

No response yet again. He considered running back to the phone and calling Baek on his phone, asking him what to do, but he didn't exactly want to leave her side and have no one wake up there with her. The pain of having nobody there when you're waking up from some type of living nightmare… was severe. He had experienced it before. And he didn't want her, or anyone for that matter, to experience it either.

Eventually, he felt her body stiffen under his touch, and soon enough, green eyes hurriedly appeared, staring right into his sienna ones. He let go of her, leaning back, sitting on his knees, his back straight, "Hi."

"Hello…"

"…You were screaming again. Thought I should probably wake you up and get you outta that nightmare, y'know?"

"Yeah… Thank you."

He shrugged, looking at his hands, "It's fine. Do you want anything?"

"Can I have a glass of water…?" She asked wearily, trying to sit up.

He smirked to himself. Well, that was a good guess. He gestured to the one by her bedside, before leaning over her again, trying to help her up, readjusting the pillows for her so she could sit up comfortably, speaking, "Grabbed you a new glass before I woke you up. Kinda figured that you'd ask for that. Thing is, last time you asked for it, you fell asleep when I got back. At least this way you can have a drink."

Athane nodded a little, shuffling a little to get herself comfortable, and went to grab the drink, only to have it shoved into her hands by the Korean youth. She raised the glass to her lips and drank as much as she could in one gulp, before she had to come up for breath. Her green eyes remained fixed on the 13-year-old nearby, watching how he just seemed so happily preoccupied with his hands.

After a while, he looked up at her, "Greece, yeah?"

She answered, raising the drink to her lips again, "Mmhm."

"Crap… Are you Spartan?"

Hwoarang saw a twinkle of amusement in her eyes, even as she took another sip of water. She put it back in both her hands, looking at him, her mouth a firm line as opposed to a large frown, "And what if I am?"

He was still grinning, mainly at her reaction, "Well then, guess you'll have to teach me some Pankration."

"Who says I know martial arts?"

"You look like a fighter to me."

"Have you been perving on me?"

"No," He replied innocently.

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. Razer shuffled a little bit, looking at the remaining water in the glass in her hands, "I'm from Athens, not Sparta. I do know martial arts, but not Pankration. Some of the stuff I do know is from that, though…" She looked up for a moment, "Wait, since when were you intrigued?"

"I'm a fighter myself," He stated proudly, crossed arms propped up on the bed.

"What style?"

"The best."

"…Which is?"

"Tae Kwon Do."

"Ah. A series of pansy kicks."

"We'll see how much damage those pansy kicks do when you're better."

That twinkle of amusement appeared once again, "Alright. We will see."

"Do you want anything else?"

The 12-year-old paused for a bit and looked around the room. After careful deliberation, she looked back at the Korean, nodding her head as she spoke, "I am a little hungry… Is it okay if I have something to eat…?"

He stood up, "Sure."

"You have water spilt on your shirt."

"Thanks, Captain Obvious…"

His leaving remark plastered a twinkle of amusement in her eyes. It was as though she found him amusing. Somewhat.

And lonely.

She curled up a little, placing her water back on the table beside her. Her body less achy than it was the last time she was awake, and the time before. She understood what the devil within meant by her summarised statement of Hwoarang, the first time they truly interacted in her mind.

Athane could see the loneliness in his eyes, though she didn't know what from, and frankly, at the moment, she felt that it was none of her business. But he was definitely lonely. What did Devil mean, though, by trying to be strong and helplessly watching his heart freeze? He seemed fine. He seemed caring. He seemed… normal, in those areas.

You don't know him yet. Trust my intuition on this. He is a sad, lonely little boy with a weak, freezing heart. He is a bitter boy. Do not judge what you do not know.

_And you can honestly say you know him…?_

I know him better than he knows himself.

Deciding she had enough of the devil within, she tried to shut her voice out of her mind, though failed miserably. How the hell did someone control something like this? How could you shut out a voice that echoed forever? Maybe there was a way to drown it out, a way to kill it or something…

Do you recall what I said last time? I can never die. I am eternal.

With a shaky sigh, she lifted herself off the pillows, trying to sit upright on her own. Carefully, she managed, despite the protests from her back. She wondered why her back was so sore. She couldn't exactly remember what occurred, though it had to have been big.

The youth swallowed a little, swinging her shaking legs off the side of the bed. Her bare feet came into contact with timber floors, and she wiggled her toes with an absent mind. Little steps. She didn't need to be screaming in agony, but she couldn't exactly remain put either. She had to get out of this bed and look around.

Easing herself off, she found strength in her legs, and managed to stand without needing to lean on something or grab hold of something. Ha. That's a few more points to her, and none to the devil within. She'd be alright, eventually.

The Greek looked down on herself and realised she was still in the same clothes as when she planned to run away from home. The only difference was, her shoes were off, and so was her jacket. She looked to a chair near the back of the room and saw that her jacket (which was now clean) and bag were neatly placed on top of it. Below it were her shoes.

Razer slowly inched out of the room, careful not to trip. She felt a little dizzy still, but that was probably because she had not eaten or drunk properly in the last few days, not to mention possible blood loss. She looked down at her arms, still seeing a few wounds here and there, and sighed – more memories from her Father.

She was now standing outside of 'her room'. Looking around, she saw a large, main area. To her right, in the corner, was a television, along with a large couch and an extra chair. To the right of it was a large glass door, leading out to a veranda, and the backyard after it. She saw a couple of trees, and a soccer ball lying there idly.

To her immediate left was the hallway, going way down, past another large spacious room (though it did not look as lived-in as this one was), past an open door, and stopped at another, closed door. It appeared to be the front door. After careful deliberation, she concluded that the primary area was the main training room. This was a dojang, after all, and Baek probably had more students aside from Hwoarang. This was the part where the master and his student lived.

She looked further to the right from the hallway to see a small kitchen area, complete with a counter with stools. She found Hwoarang in there, cooking up something quickly for her to eat, running from one area to another, searching for certain ingredients. Whatever he was making, it smelled nice.

Deciding to head that way, she walked over quietly and slowly, hoping not to make too much of a racket, or hurt herself. The distance was not too far, though in actuality, it felt like so much more. Every foot step was heavy and painful, and the moment she got to the stool, she'd be happy. And she'd do it all by herself.

"What the fuck? You shouldn't be out of bed yet!"

Razer looked up from her feet to Hwoarang, and furrowed her eyebrows, "I can't just sit in there all day."

He furrowed his own eyebrows, watching as she successfully made it to the chair, and sat down. He sighed helplessly and returned to the task before him, "Baek's probably gonna kill me now… Thanks. Really."

"Not a problem," She drawled teasingly, trying to look over his shoulder from her stool, "What are you cooking?"

"Guk. That means 'soup'."

"Oh… Cool…"

A few more moments slid by. Each took a glance at one another from the corner of their eyes, occasionally getting caught, and then diverting the attention elsewhere. Hwoarang was curious about this new girl. He couldn't help but care, though he still strived to maintain strength in isolation methods. As for the Greek, well… she was curious too, mainly trying to decipher what the devil within meant about him being a sad, 'lonely little boy' with a weak, 'bitter freezing heart' who was 'so like you'. There was no way, unless Doo San was violent too or something, which she doubted. She didn't fear him.

The bowl was placed in front of her. The sound of it touching the table brought Athane from her spinning head. She looked up from her hands and to the Korean, who was scratching the back of his head, looking at the food he just made, "Just a warning, I'm not much of a cook. Baek's accused me of 'lighting the water on fire' before."

"With or without the assistance of oil?" She inquired, picking up the nearby spoon.

"Without, somehow."

A slight snort indicated to the 13-year-old that she found that amusing. He grinned, turning away as she took some of the soup into her mouth, and deposited the remaining utensils in the kitchen sink for either Korean to wash up later.

After a brief silence, the 12-year-old spoke, "This is not too bad, you know."

"Who paid you to say that, and how much to do so?"

She looked up from her food once more, saying nothing, though she did find the comment amusing. After a few moments of silence, the Korean had looked over his shoulder from the sink, seeing that small spark of amusement in her eyes. He silently grinned to himself and returned his attention to the dishes, but not without taking a glance at the clock overhead, hearing someone enter the dojang at…

4:45. Bastard.


	4. Judgement

_If it is in _normal _style, then it is speech.  
If it is in italics, then it is in thought.  
If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue.  
If it is __underlined__, then it is Devil.

* * *

  
_

_**Chapter Four: Judgement**_

A month quietly slid by after that day.

Razer had begun to call the dojang home. She liked the new environment, as it was a welcome change from the home she was used to. She felt so free here, but not alive. She felt as though she could do whatever she wanted without being breathed down her neck, but she still did not feel alive. She couldn't grasp the 'alive' feeling. She still felt dead, especially with the devil within's taunts, and with one of the residents within her new 'home'.

Baek… he was a remarkable man. He was kind, honest and considerate.

She couldn't say the same for Hwoarang.

Those first few days, those first few acts of kindness, were like a charade. He was a bastard, and she'd be damned if she ever helped him for _anything. _He was rude, arrogant, self-centred, annoying, perverted, and overall, _frustrating. _He had no respect for anyone, or anything, and to see him take what he had for granted, to not understand true suffering… it made her very, very angry.

A week after she had arrived, she had asked him small questions, such as did he like living here, what he thought of Baek, what was the weather like in Seoul, and so on. Each response was simply spat out uncaringly, sparing the question about his teacher, and after the last question, she was informed that _she _had _rudely _'interrupted' his 'sitting-around-doing-nothing' time. She realised that perhaps it was too soon to ask questions, to try and be friends with him; or maybe he wasn't ready to.

A few days after that, she found out how arrogant and self-centred he could truly be. The teacher and the student had a very heated argument, in English. Most of the topics regarded school and his conduct at it and in the dojang itself. One of the topics had been about her, but it wasn't for the worse. Doo San was trying to get Hwoarang to settle down, or something. She didn't hear the whole lot, but after that argument, the younger Korean had stormed out of the dojang and gone for an hour long bicycle ride (after raiding the garage for it).

"You're so selfish sometimes, kid… I'm trying to help you," The older Korean had murmured before turning away from the front door.

Even he knows what Hwoarang truly is – lonely. And it because of this loneliness is his heart freezing and turning bitter.

His perverted mind, whilst _he _thought was entertaining, was insulting and annoying. It had been discovered two weeks ago, after being in the dojang for two weeks already. Baek had told them to go into the backyard and kick the ball around whilst he had some parents over to discuss business (he was getting two new students, both brothers). Razer had politely nodded and went to the glass door, opening it, thereafter looking over her shoulder and at the 13-year-old, "So, are you coming?"

"Oh, I'm _coming _babe," He grinned.

She had furrowed her eyebrows dangerously and stepped outside with a growl, trying to ignore the comment, despite Devil's snickering.

And amidst all of this, he just didn't care. He was disrespectful to everyone, even Baek, though that case was less noticeable than the others. Even the other students who trained with him avoided him. There were three that spoke with him occasionally, and by the way they were jesting around, it appeared as though they thought they were his friends. Unfortunately, it was quite obvious that the youth felt otherwise, rarely sharing their laughter, rarely pitching in a joke, and so on and so forth.

She had watched from the corner of the room, and noticed that fact in the third week (the 40-year-old had asked her to stay with them for that day). He masked his loneliness by priding himself on fighting, on being the strongest, though sometimes he let his guard down when everyone else was getting a drink… and the loneliness in his eyes was enough to make her turn away and curl in a ball herself.

He had friends, though. On the Monday of the fourth week, earlier this week, school had 'apparently' started up again. He had gone to the door in his school uniform, bag slung over one shoulder, called out good bye (to nobody in particular), and met up with his two friends, Shin Min and Seo Changmin, before crossing the road and jumping on the bus. Well, he wasn't completely lonely then, was he?

He is still alone. He is just as alone as you are.

It was currently Friday, a fair while after lunch, and the 12-year-old was reading a book Baek had given to her. It was in English, and it was called 'Eragon'. She remained seated on the lounge in the main room, reading quietly as the man beside her watched a Korean drama. He barely moved, though he did look at her occasionally, and she did feel it.

She turned the page to a new chapter just as the show finished. The Korean muted the television, not wanting to hear the crummy credit music, and shuffled a little, turning to face the Greek child, "So, how are you today?"

"I am well, thank you," Athane replied, folding the corner of the page so she knew what page she was on, and thereafter closed the book, looking up at the teacher. She attempted to smile a little, though it miserably failed, even as she made small conversation with the man who helped her recover from that horrible day, "How are you?"

"I'm good, thanks."

"Okay."

He smiled, "Is the book alright?"

"Yes, it is interesting," She answered with a monotonous tone, though she didn't mean for it to sound so.

"Good. I haven't read it, so I wouldn't know. I bought it for Hwoarang, but he doesn't like reading."

"He seems very ungrateful to me."

"He's not."

She shrugged and looked down at the cover of the book, "I do not know him, but from what I have seen, he seems that way."

Baek scratched the back of his head and searched for a way of explaining the younger Korean's nature to the new girl, "Look… I don't know you very well, nor what happened to you the night before he found you… but I can tell you've been through some rough times. All I can say is… don't feel alone, because you're not. And please, don't shut yourself out from us, because then you _will _be lonely, and feel like crap. That's what he's done to himself… But I know he's not ungrateful. He's still trying to sort himself out, you know? And he's a teenager, he's changing, so that'd be bugging him as well. Hwoarang may be lots of things, but I know, deep down, that he is very grateful for what I do for him. Please, don't judge him now. Give him time, just as he has given you."

"He has given me time?" She inquired with a blank face, though inside she was rather bewildered by such a gesture.

"He didn't want to go back to school until you were alright. His holidays actually finished about two weeks or so ago. He was worried."

"He sure did not look it…"

The 40-year-old smiled a little, now facing her wholly, "Well, he was, and still is. Don't let his personality fool you."

"Why is he so mean…?" Razer asked silently, pulling her legs up against her chest. She was now facing the television, but not paying attention to what was on, her forehead pressed against her knees. Her arms were loosely wrapped around her legs, which were clad in new dark green cargo pants, bought for her by Baek, amongst other items, seeing as she would be staying for a while now.

Doo San scratched his knee and turned away from her, staring at the television himself. The credits were still rolling up the screen, "He is not mean, really… That is just a layer of his defence, you know? In his logic, if he picks on someone, then said someone will not challenge him, and will leave him alone, thus helping him keep his distance. It will only be a matter of time before someone stands up to him, though… He has that mechanism because… well, he is afraid of someone getting close to him."

"Why?"

It took a moment for him to answer, as he was trying to find a way to explain it to the youth, "He doesn't want to be extremely hurt if he loses that person. As far as I know, I am the only exception at the moment… Even then he has kept a lot to himself. I only know a few things. He can tell me in his own time, when he is ready."

Athane pressed on gently, "He sounds as though he has suffered too. I wonder what happened…"

"He will tell you what happened in his early life when he is ready to, or if he wants to. You may be waiting a while, though… He has been living in this dojang since he was five, and he only started opening up when he was seven. He's thirteen now."

"That is a long time to be living here."

"Indeed. Whenever he wants to leave, though, that door will always remain open for him."

Another question bubbled up from the back of her throat, "Why does he tease me…?"

Baek looked to her once more, wincing, "That… He's not 'teasing' you, so to say, he's just having a bit of fun. Friends pick on friends in jest, and I assume, and hope, that _that_ is what he is doing in this case. It is like he's trying to feel out your personality and your sense of humour… It is like what he says, and how you respond, serves as clues to him, so he knows what to touch and what not to touch in regards to you, for now. I think he's trying to figure out what type of person you are without your input."

"Would that include his perverted jokes, suggestions and comments?"

He laughed and stood up, making his way to the kitchen for a coffee, "Oh, that's just his way. He finds that particular topic rather hilarious. To be honest, it gets frustrating after a while, but he comes up with new references or remarks that even have _me_ grinning like an idiot… And I'm supposed to be the mature one, here!"

She smiled a little. The feel of it was still unusual on her face, and it was still a hard concept to grasp, "I see."

"That is another thing he has spoken of…"

Razer looked over her shoulder, seeing the man look at her, "Hm?"

"He wants to see you smile."

A long pause ensued.

"We were talking one morning… over breakfast, and he just turned around and said 'have you noticed she never smiles?'. It took me a moment to register that he was referring to you. I asked him why he noticed such a thing, but he never answered the question directly. Instead he said 'I want to see her smile' because 'frowning so much is unhealthy'…" He turned away, returning to making his coffee, "I think Hwoarang may be taking a small shine to you. And for both of your sakes, I hope so. He has been alone for far too long… and you need a friend."

A shine to you? I _highly _doubt that… Why would he want to consider you a friend of sorts, _monster?_

_What…?_

You heard me, you _monster… _for that is what you are. Do not deny it. You may look into the eyes of another and claim that you are pure and true, yet your bloodstained hands cannot hide the reality from the world. They have grasped the concept of death and destruction, and you know it so, so well. Don't you?

_Wasn't it you who killed my Father…?_

No. Your subconscious wanted him dead. I was merely the messenger of your desires.

She curled up again and sighed, squeezing her eyes shut, desperately trying to close the Devil out of her mind. She continuously tried to think of a calm blue ocean, where it did not ripple or crash… O-or a hilltop, where she could stand and couldn't be bothered… looking down on everything below her… like a mountain –

"I'm home."

The front door swung open violently, and was closed just as loudly. Two heads snapped towards the direction of the noise and peered down the corridor, where Hwoarang entered. His school bag was casually slung over one shoulder, and the other hand of his was in the pocket of his dark green school pants. The top button of his light green shirt was undone, the short sleeves were rolled up to his shoulders, and half of the item was tucked into his trousers. As always, his beloved goggles remained perched atop his head, pushing back his hair. Razer had only seen him without his goggles a few times, not including before he went to sleep or when he woke up.

"Welcome home," Baek sounded pleasantly, pouring the hot water into his coffee mug, "How was school?"

"Meh."

He was in the main area now, in the occupied part of the dojang; kicking off his shoes and socks, and throwing his school bag at his room's door. The 12-year-old furrowed her eyebrows, spotting something new on the side of his head, and spoke up quietly, "Hey, what happened to your head…?"

"It's just a cut," He replied abruptly.

The 40-year-old looked up quickly, "Cut?"

"Mhm. Miss Mediterranean saw it."

Baek moved from the counter swiftly and seized the younger Korean by the shoulders before he could move anywhere. An angry huff emitted as sienna eyes narrowed into slits. The fierce glower that derived from him was aimed at the Greek girl, who then shrunk back into the couch. He looked the other way as his master continued to inspect the wound, trying to shut out his voice as he spoke, "This is a nasty one, Hwo… I need to clean that up."

"Its fine," He gritted out, trying to push past the older man, "Don't worry about it."

"Were you in a fight again?"

He rolled his eyes, bored.

"Dammit Hwoarang, I told you to stop picking fights!" Doo San scolded angrily.

"Whatever," He growled back, successfully pushing past the Tae Kwon Do instructor.

He span around, trailing his student's retreat to the backyard with his eyes, and sighed helplessly. He was going outside to kick the soccer ball around, as he always did lately, much more than usual. He had noticed the pattern within the last three or so months that he would spend at least an hour or two out there, by himself, not coming inside under any circumstances until he felt better, or at least until whatever was troubling him diminished in effect.

As he returned to the counter and picked up his coffee for another sip, he saw the Greek girl place the book on the couch gently, stand up and go towards the back door. He froze for a moment, pondering what she was doing, but when she opened the door and stepped outside, he understood what she may have been thinking.

The sound the door made once it was closed caused Hwoarang to look up from the ball that was lying idly by his scuffed black school shoes. He narrowed his eyes yet again at the intruder that was standing on the veranda at the opposite end of the backyard, and spoke up, both frustrated and curious, "What do you want?"

"May I kick the ball around with you?" Razer inquired cautiously, treading down two of the three steps.

He looked back at the ball and shrugged, gently kicking it towards her with the side of his foot, "If you like."

The black and white object came to a halt just by the third step, right next to the 12-year-old's feet. She pushed it in front of her right foot, positioning it, and imitated his kick, watching it scuttle across the grass, back towards its owner. Said owner paused for a few lengthy seconds before taking two steps forward, where the ball had stopped, and kicked it back a little harder.

He couldn't contain the tiny grin that appeared when she stopped it and kicked it back with the same force.

"So, Miss Mediterranean," He began after five or so minutes, kicking the soccer ball back this time with the tip of his shoe, "What brings you to the backyard?"

"I do not know, to be honest…" Athane replied, passing the ball back to him with the side of her foot. She looked up at him, finding that he was looking back at her, hands still stuffed in his pockets. She shrugged slightly and looked back down to her feet, which were in skin-coloured slippers, "I suppose I wanted to keep you company."

"This is my _alone_ time, in case you haven't noticed," He shot back coldly, "I _always _spend it _alone._"

She winced, hearing the venom in his voice, and wrapped both arms around her waist, watching the ball once again come into view. She kicked it back to him with the tip of her foot and breathed in shakily, feeling small, "To be alone all the time is unhealthy… like constant frowning."

Hwoarang paused for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing. He tilted his head back as she lifted hers. He felt the ball tap him in the shin, but disregarded it for a moment and spoke, sounding dazed, "Have you been talking to Baek lately?"

"N-no."

"…You're a shitty liar, you know that?"

"Are you aware of exactly how foul your mouth is?" The 12-year-old countered, hoping that this was only a 'friendly' banter, as Doo San has earlier remarked, "Normal young teenagers do not swear as much as you do."

"I'm not exactly _normal,_" He scowled, kicking the soccer ball at her once more with much more force.

It rebounded off the bottom of the veranda step, echoing with melancholy. The breeze that was picking up slightly only further added to this. Hair, clothes, leaves and grass rustled quietly – the only constant sound in an otherwise muted environment.

The Korean youth expected her to turn around and run back inside. He expected her to hide from him as she had done before, as so many others had done before. A lot of people were intimidated by him, and he knew that she was one of them… but he never expected her to persistently stay through the silence.

The ball gently rolled back to him after she kicked it, beckoning him to slam his foot into it once more, to take more physical abuse. He did not look down at it, but rather continued to look at Razer, a tad confused as to why she wasn't conforming and leaving, like his thoughts had dictated. It just didn't fit or make sense to him.

"Neither am I."

_I'll fucking say… Others would've run off by now, _"Right…"

Ten more minutes passed before the girl spoke up, watching as he kicked the ball back once more, her eyes trailing the spherical object coming towards her, "So… um… Why did you get into a fight at school? What happened?"

"The guy was asking for it," Hwoarang replied brusquely, inwardly smirking as the other child moved around the ball to get a good shot.

She finally kicked it with the side of her slipper, "What did he do?"

"He looked at me."

She looked up, bewildered, and furrowed her eyebrows. Sienna eyes detected amusement within the forest green ones yet again, "How _discourteous _of him."

A light laugh. The ball came at him again, and he quickly kicked it back, taking three steps closer towards her thereafter, "He was being a menace, honestly. He kept giving me that 'I'm gonna tear you apart' type look… The damn guy's been annoying me since last term, and he's two grades above me. Kept saying stuff about how I stole his bag or whatever, and some other shit. I'm a little foggy on the details at the moment… Oh, and he roofed my fucking running shoes. Little prick… Changmin said that the person in question's has wanted to beat me up too, so I figured 'whatever', and just took the fight to him. Knocked him out cold. That'll teach him for trying to get me in trouble with the teacher."

"But you got in trouble from a teacher anyway. Where was the victory?"

He paused for a moment before looking down and scratching the back of his head, "Oh yeah…"

"Silly you."

"Shut the fuck up," He growled with a grin.

"My my, you _do _have a swearing problem…" She said, kicking the ball back.

Yet another pause. He blinked a little and shrugged, "I guess you're right."

"Admitting defeat, are we? I would have thought that you would be unable to grasp such a concept."

He grinned a little once more and stopped the coming soccer ball. He kicked it behind him, hands still in his pockets, and strode over to the youth, confidence still plastered to his face and in his voice. A light bulb had made itself known within his head. A truly interesting idea, "So, how's your body doing? Has it recovered completely yet?"

"I think so, yes," Razer replied tentatively, stepping back a little as he came closer, her hands behind her back.

The grin grew a little, like a twitch in its expansion. He was now standing four feet away from her, happily lording his head height over her. He pondered for a moment what she would do – move further away, or run back inside. She seemed the type to always run away from her problems, or when things got too large for her liking.

She furrowed her eyebrows, confused as to why he was just standing there. She swallowed a tad fearfully.

Lean back, quick!

The Greek followed the urgency in the devil within's voice and leant backward. A kick went soaring by, and if she had not moved, it would have struck her in the side of the head. Shocked by the sudden attack, she took a fair few steps back, blinking continuously, wondering for a moment if her eyes had gone on her at such a young age.

Hwoarang's smirk never faltered as he launched another kick with his opposite leg, wondering what she would do thereafter. Again, it missed, as she had stepped aside and away. When she caught the third kick, conducted with the left leg once more, and threw it back, the Korean child withdrew his hands from his pockets and slid into stance.

It finally clicked in her head. She took more steps back, all the way up to the top of the veranda, "No."

"Why?" He asked.

"I don't want to."

"Scared?"

"No!"

"Sure…"

He backed off, returning to the soccer ball, and kicked it back to her without looking, wondering what she would do. He spoke firmly once his foot came into contact with the object, "Just don't forget you owe me a match."

He heard her step down the stairs gently before kicking the ball back, "Do you think that Baek would teach me?"

The object hit him in the heel as he span around, bewildered, "What?"

"You heard my query…" Razer replied tentatively.

"I thought you said that Tae Kwon Do was just a 'series of pansy kicks'?"

"It is aesthetically pleasing, and I would like to try it sometime," She answered, rubbing her wrist.

He cocked his eyebrow and span around wholly to face her. He tilted his head back once more, though his cold sienna eyes remained firm on her form, and he tapped the ball back towards her, "Aesthetically…?"

"It looks cool."

"Ah. Well, it doesn't just look cool, you know. It's pretty deadly as well. All you need's a perfect axe kick to the top of the head, and boom, they're out cold. Or alternatively, a lovely little kick to the temple."

"I already knew that."

"Want a demonstration?"

"No thank you," She replied, returning the pass.

"Aw, c'mon," He remarked teasingly.

Pushy little boy, isn't he?

That smirk, that fucking arrogant smirk… She was starting to hate it as much as her Father. The anger moved swiftly through her veins, along with things that she only felt in regards to the man who beat her and her mother every day and every night. Rage and aggravation were two such examples. Athane clenched her fists and furrowed her eyebrows, trying to keep her breathing controlled, trying to hold in the anger.

Little did she know, the devil within was not necessarily helping matters. If anything, she was fuelling the temper, Why hold it in? Why do you not give into temptation? Temptation is ever so saccharine once you taste the alluring flavour…

Hwoarang sensed the current anger. He decided to use it to his advantage. His smirk grew as he kicked the ball to the right and took a few more steps towards her, but was suddenly met with a swift punch to his cheek. He took one step back and touched the wound in question, drawing his fingers back to observe a tiny bit of blood on the tips. He glared back at her through narrowed eyes.

"Look at you… You have a wonderful, caring man looking after you. You have a roof over your head, and you are working towards a decent education. You have people around you whom you call friends, however few or numerous they may be outside my knowledge… and you still have the _nerve_ to saunter around in the world, suggesting that you have _major_ 'problems'! What problems do you have, Hwoarang?! Is a _good_ _life_ not _fitting_ _enough_ for you!?"

The harsh sound of flesh colliding with flesh echoed throughout the backyard, even drifting over the fences and through the cracks of the door. The Greek's head was now directed to her left, and the 13-year-old was looking towards his own left. His sienna eyes were hard and firm, and welling with tears of anger, just like the girl's green eyes were most probably welling with tears of pain. The hand that had slapped her remained firm by his right shoulder.

"You have _no_ fucking right to judge me, _bitch._"

The Korean ascended the stairs, violently opened the back door, and retreated to his room, the door's slam carrying outside. Razer remained rooted to the spot, still staring down the left, trying to steady her breathing, trying to keep the devil within under control, as well as trying to contain the tears that threatened to fall because of many reasons.

Baek held his head in his hands.


	5. Alone

_If it is in _normal _style, then it is speech.__  
If it is in italics, then it is thought.  
If it is in __**bold,**__ then it is the individual's natural tongue.  
If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil._

_

* * *

  
_

Author's Note: Delayed update, I know. -.- Get used to them, sadly D:

* * *

_**Chapter Five: Alone**_

The days passed at an agonisingly slow pace, and every week, there was something new to be insulted about. For the remainder of the week after that argument, Razer was scared to approach, let alone _look _at Hwoarang and apologise for being out of hand, though in the depths of her mind, she knew that she had a point and shouldn't say sorry.

Week one resorted to a continuous insulting slew at her physique. Height, build, weight – they were all commonly used topics. She tried very hard to ignore him, though there were times where her defence was weak, and he got through, wounding what was left of herself. His words, in these instances when her guard was down, were like a hammer smashing pieces of glass into even smaller shards. His words reminded her of a hammer, and the glass shards reminder her of what was left of her.

"Did anyone ever tell you how fat you are?"

Her? Heavy-set? Hardly… She wasn't overweight… More on the underweight side. She was hardly fed at home for all those years, and she had barely picked at the food that was given to her at the dojang. Sure, she ate, but she never asked for more than was given, and even then she rarely finished the entire plate or bowl.

"You know, if you were any shorter, you'd be mistaken for a dwarf."

Once again, she would inwardly roll her eyes and scowl whenever this comment appeared. She was a year younger than him, had been taken care of badly at home, and he had the nerve to call her short? Of course she was short! It didn't help that the physique of her 'enemy' was tall for his age. And let's not forget about his long, lithe and lethal legs. As much as she hated him, though, that comment would only crack an amused grin inside of her. The line was rather 'creative' for an idiot like him.

"Flat."

_I am only twelve, for God's sake… _Athane would growl inwardly any time that second comment arrived. How stupid could the Korean be? Hadn't they taught health class yet in his school, or something? It was more than likely that they had touched upon it, though the more she thought about it, the more likely that he was asleep in class.

Week two's tactics changed, and instead of being focused on her body, this time, the insults were pitched at her face. Like every young girl, such comments hurt her to an extent where she essentially withdrew and became much more soft spoken than she had been previously. Her only company was the devil within, and she did not necessarily help her mental status. It was as though there was a second Hwoarang always there, though in her mind.

"They talk about girls having heart-shaped faces. Something must've gone very wrong in your conception."

The first time he had said something like that, she had later retreated to the bathroom to observe the shape of her face. She didn't quite understand what he was going on about, seeing as she was so sheltered for her life. She didn't see a 'heart' in her face, or whatever, but she didn't exactly see something wrong either. The fact that she didn't understand what he was going on about upset her. In addition, she felt stupid for not knowing.

"The doctor must've drilled some leaves into your eyes when you were born."

Her eye colour. He mocked her eye colour _so fucking much. _If it wasn't to do with leaves, then it was to do with grass, or trees. Surprisingly, the first time he had pulled out that particular sentence, she had managed to retort successfully.

"It appears to me that someone bled in your hair for days on end, once _you _were born."

The look on his face at that time was priceless. Hwoarang had cautiously backed off for a day or two after that, before coming back in full force with fresh sentences she couldn't counter, no matter how long she thought, and whether she had assistance from the devil within or not.

"Bet you wear some special type of contact lenses to get those eyes. Can I borrow them?"

The next week resulted in the way she spoke. _Why _he chose this, she didn't know. Razer assumed that ideas were beginning to elude him. These comments did not affect her as much… They annoyed her instead. Fortunately, she could easily pick on him in this aspect, so going through the third week wasn't as bad as the first two.

"You ever heard of apostrophes?" He had commented once, referring to her drawn-out, verbose ways.

"Have you ever heard of starting a sentence correctly?" She countered venomously that time.

There was a large break between taunts. A few hours later, the 13-year-old had come up with a new one, and had left his lunch on the table, going specifically to the backyard where she was sitting peacefully. He had stuck his head out the glass door, smirking widely, and sent forth is taunt, "I wonder how many dictionaries you read to cram all those stupid words into your head. Did you live in a library back in Greece?"

A middle finger stood tall and proud, staring back at him. As the door closed once more, she knew he had been smirking. God, he was so _infuriating. _She was beginning to regret meeting him, or even her earlier attempts to be friends with him. To be honest, neither she nor the devil within knew why she originally bothered.

It was currently Saturday, the final day of the third week. Hwoarang walked out from his room, aiming to go and watch some tv. It was around two in the afternoon, and he was noticeably bored. Unfortunately, when he walked the fair few feet between his bedroom door and the couch, he saw Razer lying down. She was half curled up and holding her stomach.

Furrowing his eyebrows, he spoke up, "Other people need to use the couch too."

Nothing but a groan escaped her, and a lazily waving hand that collapsed next to her form thereafter.

"I know you understand English, so stop ignoring me. Shove over."

The youth curled up a little more, and shuffled up. It wasn't enough for him, though.

"Move it, bitch!"

"Just go find another damn chair! My God…"

The Korean growled angrily and clenched his fist. Before he could do anything, however, he heard his mentor call him over to the training area. Sticking his tongue out briefly at the girl, he ran into the other room, seeing Baek perform stretching exercises. He folded his arms across his chest, "**What?**"

"**Can't you bug someone else and leave her alone?**"

"**It's not like she's doing anything important.**"

He rolled his brown eyes and looked to his student, stretching his arms across his chest and behind his back. Each Korean word fell off his tongue gracefully, "**As if **_**you **_**have anything important to do **_**either, **_**Hwoarang.**"

"**She's such a bitch!**" He suddenly exploded, stamping his foot, arms uncrossing themselves, "**Dammit, we'd get along **_**a lot better **_**if she wasn't such a fucking bitch to me! Who gave her the authority to just lounge about on the fucking couch all day?!**"

"_**Language, **_**kid.**"

"**I **_**really **_**don't fucking care at the moment, Baek.**"

"**Well maybe if you stopped picking on her, she wouldn't 'be such a bitch' in standing up for herself.**"

The 13-year-old disregarded the comment and crossed his arms once more, looking to his left, "**And what's the deal with being all curled up on the couch anyway? She's got a bed. What's she trying to do, make us feel sorry for her by sitting where we can see her, holding her stomach and groaning 'in pain'?!**"

Doo San furrowed his eyebrows for a moment before turning his attention back to his stretching, "**Well, Razer could be in pain, you know.**"

"**Yeah, **_**being tired **_**is **_**really **_**painful, Baek.**"

"**Well, she's a girl…**"

"**And that gives her the automatic right to be a bitch?!**" He countered angrily.

"**She's a girl.**"

"**Just because she's a girl doesn't give her the automatic right to be a complete and utter bitch! Someone should seriously knock some sense into her so she can come down from her high and mighty 'lost girl' pedestal!**"

"**Hwoarang, she's a girl,**" He repeated for the third time, hoping that he understood what he was trying to say.

"**Stop saying that!**" The youth growled, looking at the older man.

"**For God's sake, how stupid can you be?! **_**She's a girl. **_**Stop and think for a moment!**"

It took a good, solid five minutes before the student realised what the teacher was trying to imply. All he could offer through the awkwardness was a just-as-awkward, "**Oh...**" There were a few more moments before he spoke again, "**Does this mean I have to be nice to her?**"

The older Korean's eye twitched, "**Go do your science homework, kid.**"

He watched as his student span on his heel and left. He heard the door slam once more, and knew that the 13-year-old had retreated to the sanctuary of his room. With a light sigh, he walked out into the main room, noticing the Greek youth was now sitting up, though still holding her stomach with one hand. The other was blindly fumbling around for the remote control.

His keen eyes noticed that it was on the floor, idly resting on the timber by the left side of the arm rest. Walking over, he bent down and grabbed it, thereafter giving it to his guest, "I presume you are searching for this?"

There was hesitance. Eventually, Razer nodded and took it from him gently, "Thank you."

"No problem," Doo San remarked with a light smile, retreating to the kitchen, searching for a glass of water. As he located a class and poured the desire liquid into it, he spoke, his voice drowning the rush of the tap, "Would you like to come into town with me today? I need to do some things down there and I thought it would be a good opportunity for you to get out of the dojang and take a look around the place."

"Alright," She replied, nodding.

_Anything _to get away from Hwoarang, hmm?

_Indeed. The little runt._

The 40-year-old shut off the tap and spoke once more, "Okay. Once I change from my dobuk, we'll go."

"Dobuk? What is that?"

"Tae Kwon Do uniform," He answered, drinking down the liquid, tugging at the sleeve of the uniform.

"Oh…"

Eventually the pair were in the car and riding into down in silence. Baek occasionally stole a glance to the girl, whilst said girl, all the while, was simply fiddling with her hands. Every so often, the teacher would take a hand off the wheel and fiddle with the radio station in the hopes of finding something that the youth sitting on his side would enjoy. Then again, he probably didn't have a clue in the world.

The silence was eventually shattered when surprisingly, Athane spoke, "This is a nice song."

"Yeah, it is. A pity I don't know who sings it or what it's called…"

"At least you know what is being said," She countered friendlily.

He grinned, sneaking a glance at her from the corner of his brown eyes, "True."

Silence.

"What music do you like?"

"I barely listened to music… back home… But… I don't mind a band named Linkin Park."

He paused for a moment, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, "Rock?"

"Primarily."

"Hwoarang would probably like them then."

"What bands does he like…?"

"His favourite is… um… just a moment, I don't quite remember… Ah! An American metal band named Disturbed. Other bands he likes include Papa Roach, Atreyu, Seether… and blink-182. Mainly for their humour though, which I find unusual a majority of the time. Damn toilet humour… They've corrupted my student's ideas of jokes. _Permanently_."

Razer smiled a little, amused by the comment, before looking up ahead, seeing the city buildings begin to form before them. She shuffled in the seat, a hand back over her stomach, and watched them form the skyline, still speaking about the other dojang occupant, "So _that _must be where he gathered such jokes from."

"Undoubtedly. And whatever wasn't on the CDs, he got from youtube. Damn that thing too."

"Are there any non-American bands he likes?"

"Crying Nut… Cherry Filter, The TRAX. They're K-Rock. And Ellegarden too. They're J-Punk."

"Hwoarang speaks Japanese?"

"No. They do English songs as well as Japanese ones."

"Ah… I see."

For the remaining few minutes in the car, silence filled the air once more. It seemed the 'Hwoarang Topic' always got a lot out of the two, throwing questions and answers back and forth between one another. Razer supposed it was because he knew she wanted answers to the endless amount of questions she had… Only, he'd answer a few, not all. Still, some was better than none.

"We're here."

She snapped out of her thoughts and looked around the area, noticing they were in a car park. With a light shrug of her shoulders, she unbuckled her seatbelt, unlocked the door to the vehicle, and stepped out cautiously, about to see the city of Seoul for the first time.

* * *

"**You have **_**no idea **_**how much of a hassle she is,**" Hwoarang spat, the cordless phone still pressed to his ear.

"**Dude, with the way you're going on about her, it's almost as though you're enjoying her company.**"

"**God, **_**no. **_**Seo Changmin, what do you take me for?**"

The boy on the other side of the line chuckled, "**Well, you've been talking to me for the last half an hour, and the only topic that you've been talking about is this Razer girl. Oh, aside from the brief 'can you email me your answers on the Science work'. Do it yourself, dammit!**"

"**No! It sucks!**"

"**Geez you're pathetic. You think ****I**_** enjoy**_** doing it? Who the hell wants to learn about **_**plants?**_"

"**Maybe I should give my homework to Razer. She seems like the nature-type girl. Oh wait, she can't read Hangul. Even better!**" He stood from the couch and went towards his room, going to grab aforementioned papers and dump them in the room next to him, "**This should provide a **_**great**_** source of entertainment…**"

The noisy sound of a slap came through on the other side of the line. The 13-year-old stopped at the door of his room, taking the phone away a little from his ear. Damn, that was loud. He presumed his friend had slapped his forehead in agitation. His idea was further supported when Seo growled somewhat calmly, "**Can you talk about something else for a change, please? I'm sick of your bitching.**"

"**You didn't have to talk to me.**"

"_**You **_**rang **_**me! **_**Of course I was going to answer my damn phone!**"

"**Then hang up if you've had enough of me,**" came the harsh reply.

His sienna eyes widened a little when he was met with a dial tone. He pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it longingly for a moment, sighing. He went to press the redial button on the white phone, but then stopped suddenly, shaking his head, opting against it. If Changmin had enough of him, then who fucking cares. If he rang back, he'd be showing the core of his loneliness. He'd be showing his neediness for a _real_ friend. Someone…

Anyone.

Hwoarang lazily tossed the phone onto the couch, turning away as it hit the arm rest and rolled down onto the seat. Peering into the dark mess that was his room, he slipped past the crumpled clothes, open books and comics, and reached over some of his other pointless possessions, his slim fingers winding around firm would and flexible steel strings.

He lifted the heavy item, carefully manoeuvring it over his things, and took a few steps back. He continued to back away until his legs hit his bed, where he decided to sit. He eyed the black box that was underneath the chair opposite him. Leaning forward, he fumbled for the power switch, smirking a little to himself when he satisfyingly heard a click.

Licking his lips, he idly plucked a muted string, hearing it dully ring, feeling it shake slightly beneath his left hand, which had enclosed the whole of the neck. With a sigh, he shifted the object so it sat comfortably in his lap, and pressed up against him. He stared into space for a few moments, before fiddling with the knobs on the body of the item, turning the volume down slightly.

_My only friend._

His agony screamed through the guitar's strings.

* * *

Hours later, Baek and Razer had returned to the dojang. The child could honestly say that she had a nice time with him, and was becoming more and more comfortable around him as time went on. She was not as jumpy around him as she had been previously, and was starting to deem him very trustworthy.

The reason that he had gone into town was to purchase more gear for his class – dobuks, protection, the lot. During this endeavour, she had expressed interest in taking it up, to which the Korean was generally surprised, and pleased to accept her as his student. Though, she would not train with him for a while. He wanted her to be completely rested and healed from her injuries before anything of the sort occurred. They had come to this agreement over ice cream.

Upon their return, both saw Hwoarang lying down on the couch, asleep. The television was on, though the sound was down, and his face looked a little flushed. One foot and arm were handing off the couch, and the other foot was folded comfortably underneath him. His other arm was resting on his form. The remote was on the floor, below where his right hand was aimlessly hovering.

Doo San cautioned the 12-year-old to be careful around his sleeping student, for if he was woken, he would not be in a pleasant mood. He said that it would be a far better idea to leave him alone until he decided to wake up. The man had left the room thereafter, carrying his newly found items into the public part of the dojang, and began to put them away.

She had busied herself with small, pointless things in the hopes of staying out of everyone's way, and hoping to help them out. She grabbed the remote and turned the television off, put the cordless phone back in the receiver, lightly pushed Hwoarang's school bag into his room (and thus out of the way), did the few remaining dishes for them, and tucked the stools in as quietly as she could.

The brief scraping sound created by chair over the wooden floors momentarily had her worried that this would wake the sleeping beast. However, when she looked back to make sure he was still asleep, she had found him shivering and fidgeting in his slumber, a face full of distress pinned on his visage. It appeared as though he was having a bad dream.

Not knowing what else to do, she ran into the other room and told Baek. The 40-year-old bit his lip and followed her back into the room. He placed a hand on his student's shoulder and shook it lightly, calling his name, saying things to him that she didn't understand. Razer simply watched from the side, her back towards their rooms, and idly put her hands behind her back.

The Korean youth eventually came to, his eyes fluttering open in the like of an infant, "**…Eh…?**"

"**You were having a nightmare. It's alright, it's all over.**"

Sienna eyes shied away from the older man as he rolled onto his side and started sitting up slowly. The teacher knew what it was about. They eventually closed firmly, trying to keep all his feelings and emotions inside. It was only a nightmare. What had happened in it had happened long ago, and there was nothing that he could do about it now. Hell, he couldn't do anything about it to begin with.

He realised he was still shaking when he managed to sit wholly upright. He breathed in deeply, trying to steady its rhythm, and opened his eyes once more, realising that his gaze was to the floor. He lifted his heavy head up and soon saw Athane standing nearby with a concerned look on her face. He furrowed his eyebrows dangerously, eyes narrowing into slits, and spoke surprisingly firmly, "What're you looking at?"

"Are you okay…?"

"Answer the question," He hissed. If looks could kill, the girl would be dead by now.

"I-I was concerned –"

"You were concerned, huh? Well no one asked you to be. Stupid girl."

"Hwoarang," Baek growled warningly.

"No, shut up! This wouldn't have happened if she wasn't here!" He jumped up, ignoring the dizziness that ensued, and continued to speak angrily, "If she wasn't here, you and I wouldn't be so fucking stressed out, and I wouldn't have fallen into that nightmare again! Not to mention you wouldn't feel like shit lately! All the headaches, all the stressing out, huh Baek?! _None _of it would've happened if it wasn't for her!"

The Greek took a step back and suppressed a whimper, _He is still in shock from the nightmare, that's all. He's looking for someone to blame. Why blame his teacher when he can blame me? He's just in shock, he's just in shock, he's just in shock. He doesn't mean any of this. Not a single word…_

You are an idiot, you know that? Devil crowed merrily, Of course he means every word of it! Why, if you had not interfered in their lives, they probably would've been alright. With you crash landing not so far away, you've made everything a lot worse and a hell of a lot more stressful for them. Hwoarang means every single word, and you know it.

He verbally attacked again, "We were better off without you here!"

"I-I'm sorry…" She stuttered feebly.

Look how weak you are… Apologising like a fool. You know your apologies will not do anything, just like they did not do anything with your Father. Why, he is _the new _bully in your life. I wonder if he will start physically abusing you next… That would be a most amusing sight to see. I doubt you would be able to defend yourself in this situation as well… _Weak, pathetic _excuse for a human you are…

"So you should be. Get the hell out of my sight, you worthless piece of trash!"

"**Hwoarang!**" Baek yelled, standing up angrily, "**Go to your room, **_**now!**_"

The 13-year-old briefly looked at his mentor before sending a glare to the foreigner. With an angry huff, he turned away and walked towards his room quickly, slamming the door closed thereafter. The sound was like a stinging slap, cruising through the otherwise quiet and peaceful environment.

The other two stayed there, unmoving and silent. Razer's gaze dropped from his bedroom door and down to her feet. She shuffled them, eyes now squeezed shut, and tried to keep the tears in. She felt so alone here… her whole life… What did she have to do to get a friend who didn't want to use her in any way, shape or form? A true friend who would be there always?

Why was she doomed to suffer in silence? Why did she feel destined to be forever alone?

Because you are _mine. _You are _mine _to make, _mine _to destroy… _Mine _and _mine alone. _

"Hey…" Doo San began quietly, looking at her with a light and tired smile, "don't take anything he said to heart, alright? You're not a hassle, you're very welcome here. You're a pleasure to house and be around. He's just… had a very, very upsetting nightmare and is still in a crappy head space because of it. Don't worry about it, okay?"

She nodded, though she couldn't drown the feeling of loneliness inside. She had pushed it down for so long, strengthened the dam with as much reinforcing items as she could… But that little outburst in itself tore it down, and like water, loneliness flowed freely through her system.

_Because he's right…_


	6. Runaway

_If it is in _normal _style, then it is speech.  
If it is in italics, then it is in thought.  
If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue.  
If it is __underlined__, then it is Devil._

_

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_

Author's Note: And the updates will get even slower. I'm not updating this story again until I at least get to chapter 14 or 15 (you know how I write ahead of you guys? I'm on chapter 12 atm), and until I post up two oneshots that are in waiting, and update **No Tomorrow** once (maybe _twice_). It's for your own good guys. I just can't keep this up anymore. I know you lot are probably a bit hissy about this, but look at it from my perspective – I **still** have some type of writer's block. And it's infuriating.

* * *

_**Chapter Six: Runaway**_

The digital clock on the bedside table beared two zeroes and a three in red writing. It and the lamp beside it lit the room in a gentle glow, providing enough light for the individual in the room to do what they had decided to do many hours ago. If it weren't for the light sniffling, anyone passing by wouldn't have noticed the person's presence.

Razer breathed in fiercely and zipped up her bag. Inside of it were all the things she brought with her from Greece, the things that she had packed the night before her world was turned upside down and inside out. Everything else that she had been provided, though, by those living here, had been neatly folded up and placed on the bed. She refused to take any of the items along with her. Whilst she was grateful for their hospitality… she didn't want to be a burden anymore. She was even wearing the clothes she had on the night she was found.

_I guess this is it, _She thought to herself, standing up, bag on her back. The child flicked off the light and turned away from the room she had called hers for the last three months, Her steps were tiny and silent, even as she opened the bedroom door, stepped outside, and closed it behind her, wincing at the creak of the hinges.

What a cliché thing to do, honestly. Running away? Can that be anymore cliché?

She sighed silently, forgetting about the devil within once again. No, she could never think to herself anymore. Not while the being was inside her body, gnawing away busily, _J-just shut up… I don't need you to make me feel worse than I do now… Stay in the back of my mind. Please…_

Devil laughed, You are most amusing, mortal. After three months, I am beginning to see some worth in you… _Entertainment._

The Greek bit her lip harshly and blinked several times, trying to clear her vision. She slowly crept towards the dojang's entrance, careful not to trip over anything or disturb the two males within the house. This was it. She was going to leave this place forever, and never turn back. Sure, it would be hard on the streets, especially since she didn't know the language (apart from 'hello' and 'thank you', curtesy of Baek), but she was going to try her hardest to survive, no matter what.

The front door came into view. Athane's footsteps quickened, until she came to the aged wood. Taking a deep breath in, she unlocked the back of it and opened it widely, ignoring the large gust of wind that screamed in from the outside. Shivering, she took a few steps out and closed the door behind her carefully. The howl of nature bursting inside for a while was bad enough.

_I cannot allow myself to be pulled down again… _She thought sadly, _and unfortunately, that's what Hwoarang does to me. No more will I be forced into submission, whether it is of words of hands. The old, weak me is dead and gone as of tonight._

Looking down both sides of the home, she turned right and began to run to the city.

* * *

A hand emerged from underneath his bed covers, fumbling for the 'off' button of his alarm. He eventually found it, flipped the switch quickly, and groaned in frustration. Red hair slowly began to peek out from underneath the sheets, until finally, Hwoarang emerged, irritated and sleepy. He sat up, resting his hand on the mattress, and rubbed his eyes.

_It's only seven… Man… I really should learn to turn that off on weekends._

He kicked off the blankets and adjusted his pyjamas, which had become twisted in his sleep. With a yawn and a stretch, he made his way out, heading for the couch immediately to turn the television on, so there was at least some noise in the house until the other two occupants woke up.

The mere thought of one of those occupants had him scowl slightly. Deciding to harass her in the hopes of waking himself up, he opened her door quietly, clearing the sleep from his throat, about to say something completely out of line and insulting. However, when his eyes adjusted to the light change, he didn't see her peacefully sleeping on her bed. Instead, he saw everything Baek had given her neatly placed on top of her bed.

"Oh shit…" He murmured, backing out of the room slowly with wide eyes.

_She wouldn't have… left… because of me… Would she…?_

Biting his lip, the 13-year-old ran down towards Baek's room.

* * *

The tall city buildings framed the sky above her. She felt dizzy just looking at them, to be honest, not to mention quite lost. Razer wished that she had thought out her plan of escape better, so she at least had an idea of where to go and what to do. Devil was simply laughing at her, scolding her in how she should've thought of this in the first place before making her decision to run away.

Someone pushed past her harshly, sending her into a little spin. Once she firmly planted her feet on the ground once more, she saw a stocky businessman looking over his shoulder, angrily shaking his head at her, whilst walking away. Undoubtedly, he was the one who ran into her in his hurry, amongst the many other businessmen and women crowding the area.

Adjusting her backpack once more, the youth looked around once again, seeing a long alleyway that appeared to lead to another part of the town. Sighing, she walked over, hoping that on the other side, there would be somewhere to stay. That, or said part of town would give her an idea of what to do in her current situation.

It took a while to get past the wide stream of people, and once she was out of it, she was thankful for the space. Her hands firmly on the straps of her bag, she looked around the area once more before taking off down the long alleyway, wondering what lay on the other side past its darkness. She quivered a little in nervousness with every step.

I have a bad feeling about this.

* * *

"**I can't believe this!**" Baek scowled angrily, scouring every nook and cranny of the dojang one last time. All the while, he had been yelling at his student, who did not seem very pleased at all. If anything, he was worried once more, just like when he had found her those months ago, "**You **_**know **_**she's not fully recovered from whatever emotional scars have been dealt to her! If you hadn't had been such a bully and yelled at her so many fucking times, she would still be here!**"

Hwoarang continued to put his shoe on, hurriedly trying to tie the laces.

"**You are such a selfish asshole sometimes, kid! I know what happened to you, but that doesn't give you the right to shut everyone out of your life! When something bad happens, you don't hold onto it! You accept it and let it go, so you can become a stronger person and not dwell on all the bad things! Physical prowess and a shell of steel **_**does not **_**equal **_**true **_**strength! If anything, it is **_**weakness!**_"

One loop with one lace, around the centre of it with the other, aaaand –

"**She just wants to be your friend!**"

He froze. It took him a good long moment to look at his mentor with sad eyes, "**She wants to be… my friend?**"

"_**Yes **_**Hwoarang. Even after **_**everything **_**you put her through, she still wants to be your friend. Through all the yelling, all the frustration, the teasing, the name calling, that slap, which I am **_**still **_**infuriated by, on **_**both **_**your parts, and so on and so forth; she still wants to be your friend,**" Doo San growled, grabbing the youth by the arm, pulling him up harshly. They began to walk to the door hurriedly, and before long they were outside, the older Korean locking the front door in a hurry, "**You look down town, and I'll take the park area. If you find her, bring her back here and call me on my cellphone.**"

The world around him was spinning chaotically, like his mind. He didn't see the teacher run to the left, brown eyes keenly scanning the premises. All he could currently concentrate on was his emotions, as he tried to fight them down, as he tried to hold back the pending tears.

But why did he _want_ to cry? He didn't understand…

_She wants to be my friend._

He breathed in and took off to the right in a mad dash, pumping his strong legs as fast as he could.

_Someone's reaching out to me… Someone… _cares_… _

He felt a lone tear slip.

_I don't want to be alone anymore._

* * *

"**Who the hell are you?**"

Razer didn't say anything and bit her lip, keeping her bag securely on her back.

I knew this was a bad idea. Look at what you've gotten yourself into this time. Stupid kid.

She breathed in harshly and eyed the man looking down on her. She could smell alcohol.

"**Answer me!**" the man growled, taking a thundering step towards her.

The 12-year-old took two steps back and breathed in, "Annyeong-haseyo." The formal greeting.

The man's fellow male accomplice laughed, "**Well hello to you too, **_**sweetheart.**_"

You are such a stupid kid. Hwoarang is right, you know. You are so fucking stupid.

The first man, who had noticeable facial hair as he scratched it, "**I wonder what you're doing here.**"

I bet you'll need me to bust your ass out of trouble. _Again. _God, you are so reliant.

"**Hey, maybe she's looking for a 'good time',**" the second man suggested darkly, smirking.

"**Maybe you're right.**"

Athane backed up some more as the two approached her. Not knowing what else to do, she slid into her Mother's fighting stance and took another deep breath in. This was something she did not need now. Why did she decide to go down the alleyway instead of take the long walk around? If she had taken the long walk around, then she firstly, wouldn't be in this situation; and secondly, would have chewed up much more time.

The first, shorter man laughed and bashed his fists together, "**Look at this, Dong-Wook! She plans to fight us!**"

Dong-Wook, the second, taller man, also laughed, cracking his knuckles fiercely, "**This'll be fun! Don't you agree Man-Su? We can beat this girl up, take her stuff, and maybe drag her back to our hideout for the 'good time' that she's been waiting for… I'm just **_**shivering**_** with anticipation!**"

Man-Su snickered, "**You sure you wanna do this, kid?**"

Go! Go! Go! Fight back, _now!_

Razer took the devil within's advice and launched a fierce kick to the shorter man's groin, watching him double over in pain. The offence had Dong-Wook come at her with a kick of his own, aiming it for her head. She weaved below the deadly leg, and hooked one of her own around the other leg, pulling hard, tripping him over. She inwardly smiled with satisfaction when his head smashed into a trash can.

Man-Su recovered from the low blow earlier, and grabbed the youth's head, slamming it into the brick wall fiercely. She cried out in pain, both her hands shooting up to his larger one, attempting to pry the grubby fingers free of her light brown hair. When it didn't work, she moved to knee him in the groin once again, knowing that he would drop her.

Her move was anticipated however, and Man-Su weaved his body to side, delivering a harsh punch to her side. The Greek sniffled and spoke to the devil within, _Help me throw him off… Lend me your strength. Please. You and I do not want this to occur._

Surprisingly, Devil complied, moving one of the child's hands back up to the source of the problem. She ordered the thumb to press particularly hard on the pressure point, which had her dropped just in time, avoiding another attack from Dong-Wook. From her place on the ground, Devil made the 12-year-old's body deliver a strong, sweeping kick to both thugs, knocking them over.

The creature withdrew her power, leaving Razer to her own defences once again. She turned away from the two of them and began to run as fast as she could. Why did she have to walk halfway down the long, dark alley before deciding to turn back? They could catch her. They knew this place much better than she did.

A fierce kick in her lower back had her fall to the ground, both hands at the attacked area. She gritted her teeth, trying to bear the pain. Instead of an antidote to it, more pain was delivered in the form of a harsh slap across her face, and a growling Dong-Wook, "**Stupid girl… Just lie down and play dead.**"

His large hand enclosed around her throat, constricting tightly. Razer tried to pull his hand away, but failed, and lifted her head back, wondering why no one could see this going on, wondering why no one wanted to do anything about it. Just a sea of business suits and ties with only one thought on their mind – money. Never compassion for their fellow human. They couldn't even hear her calling for help.

Suddenly, the pressure left, and Dong-Wook fell back with a growl. Athane jumped up quickly, coughing, trying to clear her throat, and turned her head to the right, where her saviour stood. Her forest green eyes widened slightly, and she spoke through a weak voice, "Hwoarang…?"

The Korean smirked a little and slipped into his Tae Kwon Do stance. He spoke, "Hey."

"How did you get here so fast? How did you find me…?"

"Hitch-hiked, and I heard you shout out. I know your accent well enough now to identify whether it was you or not. Now, let's fight side by side instead of one on one, shall we?"

She nodded firmly, now back in her Mother's Stance, and could see Hwoarang bouncing back and forth on his heels on her right. The two Koreans opposite them laughed. Man-Su spoke again, swinging his arm around, "**Look at this Dong-Wook! The little girl's **_**boyfriend **_**has come to her aid! Hahahahaaa… You seriously think that you two kids will be able to stop us? **_**Please. **_**This'll be so much fun.**"

"**We'll see how fun it is when you're both lying unconscious on the ground!**" the 13-year-old yelled, running up to the shorter man, delivering a firm kick to his head. Man-Su fell to the ground with an agitated growl, and promptly lashed out a fist, catching the child squarely in the stomach.

As they ended up in their little tussle, Razer found herself fighting against Dong-Wook. The attacks she was blocking with her forearms were hurting like hell. As they bruised, he simply continued to attack relentlessly, much to her frustration, _Come on, screw up or something so I can fight back… I can't fight back if you keep attacking me like this. I'll get hurt more than I am now…_

Who cares? Just attack. Attack with fury.

_I shouldn't senselessly attack._

You're not 'senselessly attacking'. You are defending yourself from a bigger, stronger, nastier foe.

The devil within forced the Greek to throw a punch at Dong-Wook's face, despite the one she copped in the shoulder. The thug stepped back, holding his face, his eyes narrowing with pain and anger. Two crimson streams trickled from his nostrils, making parts of the light moustache on his face a similar colour.

He growled as more attacks came his way. For a young girl, she was pretty strong, and her strikes were very precise. He had no choice but to inch backwards unhappily and attempt to fight back. The only trouble with that is, the girl seemed quite accustomed to pain and was happy to push along until he backed off.

With a shocked cry, he had been pushed over a trash can, and painfully fell on his head. His neck had been at an odd angle, and it caused great amount of pain. It didn't help matters when an axe kick landed squarely on his torso, just below his rib cage. The assault was so hard, so forced, that he had no choice but to black out, and now lay sprawled over the garbage bin.

Man-Su was having troubles of his own with Hwoarang, whom he had clearly underestimated. One of his arms had been put out of use because of an extremely well placed and well executed attack. The injury screamed at him, begging him to stop fighting and to save the battles for another day. But his pride was on the line, here. He didn't want to be beaten by a _kid. _A good fighter at that, but _a kid _for God's sake.

However, when he saw Razer approach him with a punch that was aimed at his head, he took several steps back and looked around for Dong-Wook. His brown eyes widened when they landed on his fellow thug, passed out and bleeding. The girl had taken him down on her own. Two on one… Two highly skilled opponents against he and his street fighting ways… He was going to lose if he didn't run away, and he was sure his arm had been busted pretty badly.

Man-Su shook his head and narrowed his eyes angrily, before high-tailing it out of there.

Silence reigned, sparing the heavy breathing and the thrill of battle. Both lowered their stances, knowing that a threat was not going to arrive again, and neither child looked at each other, too afraid to. From the corner of their eyes, they could see each other, but neither dared to move, speak, or do anything but catch their escaping breaths.

Agitated by the quiet, Hwoarang spoke gently, "Let's go home."

* * *

Look at him, doting on you as though you were his significant other. Can you see the guilt in his eyes? Or are you too scared to look and see the pain you have caused the boy? I never thought that _you, _of all people, would be capable of causing _such blinding _pain to someone _just like you._

Razer rubbed her forehead in anxiety, trying to block out the devil within. In the other was a glass of water that Hwoarang had practically shoved into her hand. She sat on the couch with a blanket wrapped around her, curtesy of the other youth, and on the arm rest on her left was some opened chocolate. He had tended to her visible cuts and bruises to the best of his ability in silence.

All of the actions had reminded her of the kind and generous Hwoarang that had nursed her around the clock for those first few days.

A pity the boy beneath that was such a bastard.

"Please drink," he begged, lightly pushing the glass towards her. He was slouching, standing to her left, and in her line of vision.

Devil laughed as Athane internally cringed, undoubtedly hearing the weakness that was firmly present in his voice. His voice had been shaking when he called Baek, telling him to return the dojang, for he had found her and brought her home. And even then, the two words that fell from his mouth were trembling, though he was desperately trying to hide it, Can you hear it, _runaway? Monster?_

The Greek pressed the glass to her lips and parted her mouth slightly, taking a sip of the cool liquid if only to ease her own inner turmoil. Her face remained blank as she tried to piece herself together. She had run away, only to be brought back to the place she was running from, and to be found by the one who forced this act was just as… hurtful? Insulting? Frustrating? She didn't know the word she was looking for… or the emotion.

He walked away thereafter, going back inside to the kitchen for whatever reason. It was when she heard the tap running did she realise it was most probably to grab a drink for himself, or something along those lines. She did not dare to look over her shoulder and inspect the situation for herself.

Eventually, he came back and sat next to her, sinking into the comfortable lounge, his forearms resting on his thighs. The 13-year-old was leaning forward, looking at the floor, almost absorbed in the wooden floors beneath their feet. From the corner of her leaf green eyes, she saw him swallow, almost tensely. He looked like he was going to bounce up and onto his feet at any given moment. Though, what he would do thereafter was anybody's guess.

She took another sip of the ice cold water, enjoying the sensation. The refreshing taste continued to soothe her own nervousness and the heated afterglow of the skirmish. Her fingers were lightly pressed against the class, and if she squinted, she could see the glass fog up a little due to the heat of her fingertips. Intriguing, how someone would observe such small things to ease their minds or pass the time… however ridiculous they may be.

"I'm sorry."

Razer looked up at him, perplexed and surprised, "What for…?"

Hwoarang was still looking at the floor before him, eyes narrowed together as if trying to hold back all emotion, to stay completely cold, as if he was _losing _this battle to _stay _cold; hands clasped together, forearms heavily leaning on his thighs, "For making you run away…"

It was hard for him to say that. She could hear it. She _knew, _even if had only been three months since they met. He didn't want to drive her away… yet she did not know _why _he wanted her around. He had been such an asshole to her… She didn't really consider him a friend, because of the way he insulted her, the way he teased her, the fuck load of perverted comments…

But she wanted to, though she'd never say it. This lapse just showed that maybe they could be friends.

All she had to do was crack open his shell, and have her own torn open in return.

The notion… of having her walls torn down to show him the true her, through everything she had ever been through at home, here, and so on… was extremely unsettling. Was she willing to strip her defences bare and reveal to him the lost little girl within, without seeing him for who he really was either? To have her at her most vulnerable, and then possibly have him take advantage of it?

Athane shook her head and shivered. No. If he wanted to be her friend, _he _would have to do it first. She had to know who he really was before returning the favour kindly. Let him come to her, holding out his core in his hands, and with due time, she would come to him, holding out her own. Let them be vulnerable to each other together.

The front door opened in a rush as Hwoarang beside her stood up and retreated to his room, oblivious to Baek's talking.


	7. Trying

_If it is in _normal _style, then it is speech.  
If it is in italics, then it is thought.  
If it is in __**bold,**__ then it is the individual's natural tongue.  
If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil._

* * *

Author's Note: No the story hasn't come off hiatus yet, this is just a chapter to assure you all that the story will not die :) Eeeven though the last time I updated this fic (18th of March 2009), I've only managed to successfully finish chapter 12 (the chapter I was on last time), and half of the 13th chapter -___- SIGH. Plus some of this chapter is cute :3 XD

* * *

_**Chapter Seven: Trying**_

"**Are you okay, man?**" Changmin asked, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder, concerned, "**You've been out of it all day.**"

"**I'm fine.**"

"**I **_**don't **_**believe you.**"

"**No one asked you to believe me,**" Hwoarang snarled for the umpteenth time, walking off the bus, not bothering to say good bye.

Across the road from the dojang was a bus stop, which was fortunate for the child, as he didn't have to walk very far to get a lift to school. It was currently 3:30 in the afternoon. The day was done, the sun was still shining brightly outside, he had no homework whatsoever, his assignments had been done (however badly they were completed)…

Yet he still felt bad inside, he realised, once he walked across the road.

Shoving the key in the lock, he twisted it, and then opened the door thereafter, not bothering to announce his return home. Slamming the door shut behind him, he ran his fingers through his copper locks, before hurriedly crossing through the training area and into the living room, biting his lip anxiously, frantically and worriedly.

His eyes drifted to the couch where the source of his worries was idly staring at her legs, backed up in the corner of the couch. Razer still appeared to be frightened and jumpy by the events that had transpired yesterday. He didn't know what happened after he retreated to his room. He didn't exactly cry, but he felt the grief inside, and managed to fall asleep for a majority of the day, drowning in his depression.

The Korean walked towards his room calmly, refusing to acknowledge the other two individuals in the room. He shut the door quietly, threw his bag in the corner, and began to undress from his school clothes, glad to get out of the damn thing. Why did they bother with uniforms? They were so gay… Really. Absolutely pointless.

Slipping his sneakers back on, and now dressed in his normal clothes, he slipped back outside quietly. He pulled the back of his shirt down, agitated that it decided to rise up, and walked past both occupants, heading straight outside to kick the ball around once more – his usual routine.

Only, he had something else planned.

Hwoarang picked up the soccer ball, holding it firmly in both hands, and walked back inside, aware of curious, mature brown eyes watching him. His footsteps were heavy as he walked towards Razer, his face clearly sad, though he tried to hide it (albeit, not very well). Biting his lip and taking a silent, deep breath in, he moved to the side of the lounge where she sat.

She noticed him standing there within a few moments, and quickly turned to look at him. There was an obvious fear in her eyes that he would say something about her and drive her back into the comfort zone of her room. Hell, she seemed to visibly shrink back into the chair when their eyes locked firmly, neither daring to turn away.

The Korean inched out his hands and the ball slowly, until his arms were completely stretched towards her.

A silent offer.

Well, would you look at that, Devil snarled menacingly, He wants you to play with him.

Still looking at him, Athane began to contemplate. He clearly tried to keep some form of emotional restraint, though from the cracks in the mask, she could see that he was upset about what he had done, and was thinking on possible ways of making it up to her. He was still sad, much sadder than usual actually, and rather angry with himself.

But she noticed that something had replaced the loneliness in his eyes. Sure, it was still there, but there was a glimmer of hope within them… As though he had lowered his defences, and wanted someone, even her, to come in. Like he was hoping that he could get out of his own personal despair. Like maybe, just maybe, in the very depths of his mind, he cared enough, however little it may actually be, to try.

He had torn down a piece of a wall so she could see inside.

More like made a peep hole so you can have a little look around, she teased.

Ignoring her, Razer sat up too and followed him outside without a sound.

* * *

The days passed just like that, like falling leaves. The joined countless others on the ground, piling up, and eventually were raked into a bag. Memories put into safe keeping. Neither wanted to admit it, but… they actually enjoyed each other's company. No ground-breaking friendship had been made just yet or anything but they were much more tolerant of one another, and weren't sending death glares back and forth every five minutes.

There were times where they got on one another's nerves, unquestioningly, but both reigned in the desire to physically assault the other outright. Instead they channelled it by different means. Razer would go talk to Baek for a while and try to learn about the country, and Hwoarang would just go back outside and kick the ball around.

They learnt a little about each other. It seemed Razer wasn't a coke fan, something that the Korean couldn't understand. He… _loved… _coke. And everyone else around him that he knew enjoyed it too. But this girl? She didn't like it, not one bit. Okay fine, there were plenty of other drinks available. He assumed beer would be a nice one to try when he was older… But _in all seriousness, not _liking coke? No wayyyyy.

In turn, the 12-year-old learnt that her Korean… acquaintance didn't adore chocolate. He _liked _it but he didn't crave it like she did. This was perplexing to her. She had seen him eat and purchase the food and what not but… didn't everyone adorechocolate? Not like, _adore. _There's a big, big, big, _biiiiiiig_ difference between the two.

Baek simply watched in the background, secretly smiling to himself. He was pleased that he did not have to break up fights anymore, that he didn't have to hear them screaming at each other anymore, and so on. The dojang was now a quiet and enjoyable place to stay. The worst that the two of them got now were disagreements and _little_ glares. The air would be tense, and both would be silent.

They were trying, and that's what mattered.

* * *

"_**Here you are, sweetie,**__" Mother said, smiling shakily. She placed dinner on the table quietly, taking several steps back thereafter, hands clasped firmly behind her back. Her breathing was frayed and uneven, and by her side stood you, holding onto the tie of her apron with all your might in your tiny little fingers._

_You both watched, as the man sitting in the chair lifted his knife and fork, getting ready to cut a piece of meat from the meal provided to him by his wife. Father quickly glared at the two women that are shaking behind him, before unhurriedly turning back to his meal. He slowly began to tuck into it, analysing the food that had been made as though it meant life and death for his wife and daughter. You let up your grip on your Mother slightly and started to move away._

_He quickly turned his head behind him, seeing you. You froze in your tracks and quickly stuttered, "__**I-I was just going upstairs, Dad. I was going to get a jumper because I'm cold down here… Th-that's all, I swear!**__"_

_Your moment of panic, your statement of fear was all he needed. You weren't going to get your jumper. You were going to run outside, and keep running. Run, run far, far away from this hellhole, like your Mother pleaded you do, because a child doesn't deserve this. You're only eight, she reminded you often, far too young to see this horror. But no one should see this horror, yet you've seen it for all of your years in your short life._

_You don't know any different. This is your reality, your life. You assume this is normal for everyone._

_It is, right?_

…_Right?_

"_**Honey, please, lower your hand! Withdraw your coming strike – she's only a child!**__" Mother yelled, taking swift steps towards you. You looked down on the ground and breathe in as the first strike came – a direct slap across your cheek. You fell, even as Mother shoved Father, still screaming about how he shouldn't do this, about how she won't stand for this, about how this was wrong._

_You barely hear your own cries of 'Mum, Mum' dribble out from your aching lips, like saliva from a hungry dog. Your eyes were watery, and you could already feel your cheek swelling to twice its normal size. You pressed a shaking hand to the wound and tried to stand on your own two feet again, but to no avail. In the struggle, Father had looked over his shoulder to see what you were up to, and once again, he threw you down with a fierce hand._

_A choked sob rises up from deep within you as he slammed his shoe into your stomach. You can't do anything but curl into a ball and cry, wondering why this was happening to you and your wonderful Mother, wondering why things like this were happening at all. This isn't how people are supposed to live. Parents should love their child._

_Right?_

…_Is it right?_

_You heard your Mother's body hit the floor in an aimless heap. Father laughed sinisterly, and you heard her form slide across the tiled floor, hitting something with force, as though he kicked her body into the fridge. Tears bled down your cheeks as you curled up further, one hand covering your head, the other pressed closely to your chest. Your breathing was disorientated and ragged, and you continued to weep in fright and misery._

_Two words run around in your mind as you felt Father's large, calloused hand grab your upper arm._

_Here's Daddy._

"STOP IT!"

"I'm not doing anything!"

Hwoarang hastily looked over his shoulder to Baek. Her screams had woken them both from their slumber. The 13-year-old had run into his Master's room and alerted him, then they both came in here to find her fidgeting. Razer was currently curled in a ball on her side, shivering. One hand was over her head, and the other was pressed closed to her body. The hand that was on her head moved every so often, as though trying to bat the person away.

The Korean youth was kneeling beside her bed, one hand on her shoulder, trying to shake her out of her nightmare. He didn't want to admit it but… he was worried, a concept that was foreign to him. He was _never _worried about anyone other than himself and his Master, but clearly here… well… it was easy to see that he was worried. The nightmare was having an effect on him too.

"Snap out of it!"

"_STOP IT! _Why do you do this to us?!"

_Us…?_

Confused, he shook her again, his voice much, much weaker, "Razer –"

"GET THE FUCK AWAY!"

Her voice was violently trembling now, and he had never, _ever _heard her swear before.

"**Hwoarang… it's best you step away,**" Baek murmured softly, grabbing his student's shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze, "**I don't think either of us can wake her up. Just… let her live out her nightmare. Let her try and wake up on her own.**"

"**I don't want her to wake up by herself…**" he said in a low voice.

_Just like when she first arrived_, Doo San mused.

"**She was there for me…** **when I remembered what happened to me. I want to… I want to be there too.**"

"**Well, we'll be here if she needs us, yeah? Until the nightmare stops.**"

He nodded firmly, going to sit in the corner, and watched helplessly.

* * *

"Mmmf…"

"You're awake."

Razer peeled her eyes back to half mast and looked to her right, where the source of the noise was coming from. She had a headache and didn't feel so good. Her eyes soon adjusted to the change, and she noticed Hwoarang sitting on the floor, looking up at her. She managed to find her voice, though it was still rising from sleep, "What are you doing here…? Shouldn't you be at school…? It's…" A quick note of the time and she spoke again, "Ten in the morning."

"School can wait," he replied, sitting up on his knees. He crawled over, resting his hands on the side of the bed, "Are you alright?"

"What do you mean?" she growled sleepily.

I still want to know what the hell he is doing on the floor, Devil murmured, also tired. It was an effort conjuring up those images. They were coming along on their own just fine, but she _had _to make sure they got through. And they did, much to her pleasure. It was always wonderful, causing her host pain. Always a thrill.

"You were…" he began, looking down. After a few moments he tried to speak again, "You were…"

"I was _what? _I stopped breathing in the middle of the night? Walked around the house in my sleep?"

He furrowed his eyebrows and bit his lip harshly. Sitting up, he let go of the sides and shrunk back, still looking to the floor dejectedly, deciding against telling her that she had some type of nightmare. She was already angry enough at the fact that he was here, and he didn't exactly want to make matters worse at this time of the day, "…Nothing."

She sighed and sat up hurriedly, flipping her hair to the side a little. The ends were tickling her shoulders. She readjusted her shirt, twisted it around and pulled the collar back up. With a light yawn, she threw the covers back and stood up, making her way to the kitchen in order to prepare some breakfast for herself. Porridge sounded good for today.

He too stood and followed after her, deciding that it would be best to make something for himself too. He maintained silence, looking to his feet, wiggling his toes occasionally, just for something to do. As time went by, he felt himself getting angrier and angrier, but he couldn't justify it. He tried shrugging it off, but it was no use, really. He supposed that he didn't like having his consideration go to 'waste', so to say.

"Ah, Razer, you're awake."

Both children turned to look at Baek, who was sitting in a nearby chair, reading the newspaper. He smiled and bowed his head slightly in greeting, to which they both returned. Neither said anything. One was too focused on controlling his emotions, and the other was just confused as to why she was receiving such attention today.

"Are you alright?" the teacher questioned, lowering his reading material.

She smiled slightly, "I am fine. Both of you, please believe me. I am fine."

He nodded a little and raised the newspaper once more, scanning through the Hangul in the article, "Hwoarang, did you want to stay home today, or do you want to go to school? I am not going to make you do either."

"I'd prefer to stay home today, if that's alright," he responded, grabbing a bowl and a spoon from the cupboards. He was currently looking for some cereal to eat, and would then go to the fridge to extract some milk, "But I might go out a little later with Razer."

"With me?" the Greek inquired, furrowing her eyebrows. Now she was well and truly confused.

"Thought you might like to go out and see the town. You know, just… hang out. A change of scenery, something new."

"I have already seen the town."

"Oh. Well, never mind then."

"That doesn't mean that I do not want to go."

He found himself smiling a little.

* * *

If you maintain your silence, he will pester you once more.

The 12-year-old lightly shrugged her shoulders and fiddled with her hands. It was three in the afternoon, and she and her… acquaintance were waiting at the bus stop across the road from the dojang. They were going into town to have a look around and spend a little more time with one another. This was a fact that the devil within found amusing, seeing as both originally hated each other.

Hwoarang glanced at her from the corner of his eyes. There were two reasons he wanted to take her into town. One, he needed to shop around for a present for Baek (if he could afford one), and possibly even the stranger. Secondly, he wanted to try and get her mind off of the nightmare she had. She may have insisted that she was fine, but both he and his master knew better.

In a bored manner, he span around the money in his hand, the coins clinking against one another, breaking up the silence. The wind gently rustled his clothes and his hair, despite the latter being confined behind his goggles. He could feel the chill in breeze, despite having a long-sleeved dark grey shirt on, and a black jumper over it. After all, it was near the end of November. Autumn was leaving, and winter was clawing its way into Seoul.

The bus pulled up along side them and let off a student. The girl looked at him for a moment, quirking an eyebrow, before moving away. It was clear that the curiousness was aimed at his friend. He brushed it off and stood, tapping Razer on the shoulder, leading her onto the bus.

"**Where to, kid?**" the bus driver inquired gruffly, scratching his large stomach.

As her accomplice paid for two tickets into town, the youth looked down the bus, trying to find two empty seats. She noticed a small assortment of school children staring at her, but tried to ignore them. Their uniforms were identical to Hwoarang's. These people went to his school, and were most probably wondering what the hell he was doing here with someone they had never seen before.

They are judging you.

She spotted a spare seat about five rows back and on the right side. She swiftly moved towards the seat, sitting down quietly next to the window, and pressed her hands together once more. She was cold, though tried very hard not to show it. Goosebumps were even appearing on her skin. Hopefully the Korean would not notice them.

They are talking about you.

The 13-year-old eventually lumbered over towards her as the bus began to move. He sat next to her, crossed one leg over the other lazily, and rested his hands on his thighs, resuming his bored tapping. His sienna eyes stared up at the roof, staring at it uninterestingly, just seeking a distraction. He was uncomfortable with the murmurs around them too. Unlike the girl sitting next to him, however, he couldn't simply 'block it out' – he understood _exactly _what they were saying.

These weren't the people who cared about him, though, even if it was only a little.

Now he was just a source of gossip, as well as someone to be feared.

Does the lone wolf have a mate?

There were murmurs on the other side of the bus that really got to him. 'Is she his girlfriend?' 'She looks funny…' 'Why aren't they talking?' First of all, what business was it of theirs? There is _no way in hell _that she was his girlfriend. She 'looks funny' because she is European. They weren't talking because… well okay, he didn't know. They just weren't. There was nothing wrong with silence, was there?

Aside from that, it got the gears turning in his mind. What was she to him now?

A tentative tap to his knee stirred him, "Hey…?"

He turned his head and looked at her, trying to maintain a blank facial expression.

"What are they saying about me?" she murmured, looking at her hands.

He turned away and looked back at his legs, "They're just wondering who you are."

"They seem to be speaking a lot," Razer stated blankly, pressing her hands tighter and tighter together.

"I'm not seen around people much at school," he replied, looking at her, "The only two people I interact with at school are Changmin and Shin Min. And I don't really consider them my friends. I mean they're nice to hang around and whatever but if I was to drop out of school for some reason, I wouldn't keep in contact with them. And girls and I don't get along. They're scared of me, just the way I like it."

"I am not afraid of you."

He smirked and leant back a little, crossing his arms over his stomach, "I know. No one guy or girl has dared to hit me unless I hit them first. And you, Miss Mediterranean, are the first, and so far _only _person to have hit me before I assaulted them…" he grinned, "You deserve a medal for your efforts. Maybe we'll find a plastic one for you in town."

The recollection of their slap exchange brought back the stinging sensation in her cheek. She pressed a cold hand to it and rubbed it slightly, as though the very memory was painful, "You know, that had _really, really _hurt…"

"Mm. Well… sorry. I probably shouldn't slap girls."

Athane hid a smile and looked at him, "I am sorry too."

"Are you cold?"

"What?"

"You're shivering an awful lot," he replied. He grabbed her wrist roughly and inspected her hand, noticing her goosebumps, and the temperature of her body. He was clearly surprised, as evident in his voice, "Shit man, you're freezing…"

She tore her arm away from his vice-like grip and pressed her hands back together again, looking out the window, "I'm fine."

"You are _such _a shitty liar."

She could feel him fidgeting next to her. She stared hard on the reflection of the window, watching his movements. To her astonishment, he was taking off both of his black, woollen gloves. He turned to look at her again and stopped, noticing that he was being stared at through the window. Their gazes locked for a moment before she looked at him directly instead of through the reflective surface.

The 13-year-old extended his hands a little, a smile evident in his voice, "Here."

"You will need your gloves more than me."

"Uh, I live here? I'm used to the cold. And I was offering my _hands _not my _gloves, _yet. My hands are warm, see?" he wiggled his fingers for a moment and placed one of his hands on hers, if only to show the heat he had. He placed it back along side his other one, palms facing upwards, "I can warm your fingers up a little and then you can use my gloves."

…I do not understand him. One minute he is cold and heartless, and the next, he's mothering you.

_That makes two of us… _She looked at him, clearly hesitating.

The Korean rolled his eyes and grabbed them anyway, running his thumbs over the top of her fingers, "I'm not gonna bite."

"Considering that you bite… eighty percent of the time, I wasn't sure, and I figured that it's better to be safe than sorry."

He bit back an insult and a scowl, feeling partially hurt, and merely shrugged, quickly setting to work on warming up her ice-cold fingers. The less time he held her hands for, the less questioning he would receive the next day at school. Without his gloves, he could certainly feel the cold, though it was not as bad as he had initially thought.

Razer bit her lip, "Remind me not to underestimate the weather again."

"Sure."

Once she could feel life in her fingers again, she took her hands away, wiggling them. With an appreciative nod, she spoke again, looking at her accomplice in the eyes. She noticed his eyebrows furrow for a quick moment before handing her both of his gloves, looking away, resuming his slouching position, hands tapping his thighs once more, trying to ignore the increased murmurs around them.

"Thank you."

He found himself smiling again.

* * *

"Can you think of anything you wanna do?"

"No, sorry. My mind is wandering."

Hwoarang folded his arms, "Surely there's something here we can do."

"Probably."

Silence.

"…Is there an arcade? Maybe there is something in there we can entertain ourselves with."

The Korean nodded and uncrossed his arms, shoving his hands in his pockets, "Yeah, there is. Follow me."

Weaving their way through various streams of people, the pair managed to locate the arcade with ease. They passed a couple of kids from the eldest's school, though most of the children they saw were either from another school, or were very young, being dragged around by their parents. They were silent throughout the voyage.

The loud laughter of youth and the steadily thudding hums of music and various sound effects grew in volume as they approached the entrance. Biting their tongues, they entered the noisy environment, still silent. Whilst green eyes scanned for an empty game, sienna ones noticed swarms of his school mates, and he couldn't help but mentally sigh in frustration.

Fortunately, there was one person here he recognised by name. Squinting towards the shooting games, he saw one of two people he would happily interact with, and tottered off towards him with a wave and a happy grin, his accomplice blissfully unaware of his sudden disappearance, "**Shin Min, hey man!**"

The youth missed his current target and yelled in exasperation as 'game over' appeared on the screen in blood red letters. He glared at his friend, almost throwing down the plastic gun, "**Dude, you made me lose my game!**"

"**Have a cry,**" he remarked. Giving a quick high five and shuffling through his wallet, he withdrew some money and inserted it into the slot, picking up the second gun. Shin Min did the same, paying for himself, "**Fancy seeing you here, and judging by your posture, you've been here for a while. How was school? Did I miss anything exciting?**"

He grinned, readjusting his weapon in his hand, "**School was boring, but it had its mildly interesting moments. Miss Yoon got fired for sleeping with one of the students in her Geography class. It's a pity, she was hot. Um, what else… We had some homework given to us for the Technology class, but it's not that hard. I'll email it to you later tonight. How come you weren't at school today anyway, Hwo?**"

A zombie appeared on the screen. Quickly, both shot it and awaited the next supernatural individual to lumber onto the screen and before their two characters, "**I slept in. Baek gave me the choice to go or stay, so I stayed home. School sucks anyway.**"

A few moments passed. The two of them were clearly engrossed in their game and were oblivious to the foreign girl calling for Hwoarang. She was looking around, clearly looking for him, and eventually noticed his crimson locks before a machine with another boy. Thereafter, she made her way over to him, standing by his right.

"**God damn… NO! I ran outta bullets!**" Shin Min gurgled with a sigh. This time, he did throw the plastic gun down, watching it swing this way and that on its tether. After recovering, he watched the last few moments of Hwoarang's survival, before fishing for more coins in his pocket. Just one more try, then he'd move onto a different game.

"You should have aimed for his head, not his heart."

"And what makes you think that?" The 13-year-old remarked, the words rolling off his tongue as he lightly glared at Razer.

"The brain is a larger organ than the heart and it is easier to pick off, in my opinion."

Shin Min tilted his head slightly, then spoke, "**Hwoarang, who's the chick?**"

"**Oh! Um…**" he stopped searching for money and stood aside. Pointing at her, he spoke calmly, "**Shin Min, this is Razer, the girl who lives with me and Baek at the dojang…**" He then pointed at Shin Min and spoke to Razer, "This is my friend Shin Min."

The Greek timidly waved, her other hand behind her back.

He quirked an eyebrow at his friend, "**This is the girl you're always bitching about? She seems pretty nice to me.**"

Hwoarang said nothing and maintained a blank expression, shrugging nonchalantly.

"**Hi!**" Shin Min greeted, bowing slightly, extending his hand in a handshake.

Razer looked to Hwoarang, biting her lip, "What did he say?"

"He said 'hi'. 'Annyeong' on its own, without the 'haseyo', means 'hi'. Should've probably told him that you speak English only. He knows the language a bit."

Nodding slightly, she greeted him in return with the newly acquired word, and shook his hand.

She maintained silence as they began to talk again, aiming their plastic toys at the screen once more. This game was lost sooner than the other, and they decided to migrate to a different game. They settled for a Street Fighter game in the very corner of the arcade, which was surprisingly unoccupied. The game had kept them entertained for at least an hour, taking turns against the computer and one another.

Eventually, Athane lost interest in the game, staring into space blankly. She noticed that her opinion of the Korean was slowly starting to shift. Sure, there were bad things about him, but deep inside, she noticed the goodness of his heart. He was trying, and that alone had pleased and confused her.

I'm surprised you've even recognised that he _has _some good in him, Devil spat.

_No man is purely evil._

Laughing, Devil threw an image of her Father at her, and immediately, her blood chilled and she swallowed her words. He remained there in his dark, twisted glory. Sporting brown hair, brown eyes, a slightly muscular body and a chiselled jaw, he clearly appeared to be an ordinary man. But whatever was going through his mind, whatever warped it, had destroyed him from the inside out, as well as those associated with and influenced by him.

_Please… take him away from me._

"Razer?"

"_What?_" she snapped, looking at the boy sitting next to her. She immediately blinked and apologised, falling into check.

He bit his lip and awkwardly patted her shoulder, "Do you wanna do something else?"

"I would like to take a look around in some shops if that is okay. You can stay here with Shin Min, I will meet you back here later. I doubt I would be hard to locate amongst a sea of Asian people anyway."

"Alright."

She stood up and left the area quickly, not looking back. Shoving her hands deep in her pockets, she left the heated location and was once again back in the cold weather. Looking around, she spotted a small row of shops on the opposite side. When she was last here with Baek, she remembered how she was intrigued by some of the items.

_I should find something for Hwoarang for Christmas, _she thought to herself, _I mean… he saved my life. It is the least I can do. Perhaps I can find something in here…_

Deciding to go and inspect them further, she walked across, her feet clashing with the concrete. Her head down, she manoeuvred through the busy people, eventually reaching the other side. Taking a deep breath in, the 12-year-old pushed open the door to the first shop, entering silently, ignoring the jingling chime of the door bell.

Looking around, she noticed that this was a jewellery shop. This was the one shop she didn't get a chance to observe for a fleeting moment. There were some gold pieces in the cabinet on her left, and some silver ones on the right. Deciding to go around the store in a counter-clockwise manner, Razer moved to the silver table and looked down.

There were some nice dragon rings and necklaces, as well as some other curious designs. Something she found intriguing was a pendant hidden away at the top right. There was a long silver chain slithering around it, almost disguising the accessory itself. What was this item doing in a store like this, anyway?

The item was about half the size of her pinkie finger, and just as thick. It was white, and had some blue and silver parts.

A rocket.

She briefly remembered a time a month or two ago where Hwoarang was watching a space program (much to her surprise) with interest. She even remembered him murmur how once upon a time, he wanted to be an astronaut. A little boy's childhood dream, from long ago. One of those almost unreachable things that a child fantasises about.

When she was that little, she wanted to be an actress. But she lost the interest in drama pretty fast, and was pretty sure that she did not have the talent to do so. Maybe in another life time she could live up to her former dream.

Childhood fantasies are often the most cherished, Devil muttered quietly, That piece would mean something to him.

_Then that piece will be his._


	8. Smile Again

_If it is in _normal _style, then it is speech.  
If it is in italics, then it is thought.  
If it is in __**bold,**__ then it is the individual's natural tongue.  
If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil.

* * *

_

Author's Note: Still on hiatus guys. I'm posting this chapter to try and encourage myself. And it's a happy one so, hopefully I'll get a bit happier.

* * *

_**Chapter Eight: Smile Again**_

The dojang had been partially decorated. There was tinsel lining the door entrances, and there were some ornaments hanging from them. There was even a 'Merry Christmas' banner at the top of the main door (inside, of course), in Hangul. Most of the decorations were in the training area, for Baek's students. There was hardly anything in the rest of the place.

Aside from an angel here, a Santa there, a large snow man decoration hanging from the back door and a very, very small Christmas tree on the kitchen counter, the living section was practically empty. Razer assumed that the two Koreans were not Christian, and were probably Buddhist or something. She herself was Christian, however her faith in the religion and her appreciation for the holiday dwindled due to the years of abuse at home. This time was barely celebrated, so in fact, this was probably her first _real _Christmas.

She observed the little angel sitting on the coffee table, holding it carefully in her hand. It was made of glass, so she was sure to be cautious. It would have been bad if it broke. The character was playing a gold trumpet, her hair was gold, as was the belt around her waist, and her wings were outlined with gold lines. It was very cute.

Wretched creatures.

_They are better than _you.

There is _nothing _better than _me._

She placed it back on the table and sighed, _I wish I could fly._

You can, through me. Would you like to go for a little fly right now?

_No, and I mean _freely…

You will _never _be free. I will forever hold you in my grasp and manipulate you as I see fit.

With a growl, she stood, holding Hwoarang's present in one hand, and tied her hair back into a ponytail with the other. She moved to the corner of the living room, sitting down. Pressing her back to the wall, she hugged her legs, pulling them close to her chest. In a vain attempt to distract herself from the torments of the devil within, she looked to her left and outside, watching the snow gently drift down from the sky. It was a pretty sight, and after staring at it for a while, surely the influence of the beast would be lost.

_At least the snow is the same._

She jumped when she heard a door slam. Looking ahead of her, she saw Hwoarang emerge from his room, dressed in baggy blue jeans and a black jumper. His beloved goggles were being pushed up, moving his hair back. He groggily rubbed his eyes and looked around, noticing the foreign girl sitting in the corner. Too tired to care, he didn't bother greeting her or wishing her a Merry Christmas, though he did hear the soft 'Merry Christmas' derive from her.

Now in the kitchen, he raided the pantry for something to eat. Deciding that cereal would be the easiest way to feed himself, he grabbed the box, a bowl, a spoon and some milk from the fridge. His eyes drifted to the sink for a moment, noticing a used plate with crumbs on it. So, the other child had already eaten. Good, he wouldn't have to make anything for her either.

Razer watched in silence, wrestling conflict within herself, _Should I go up and give it to him now…? We're alone._

She had spent everything she had from home, and whatever she had found (including pocket money Baek had given her over the last four months) on the expensive present. It was extremely difficult for her to communicate with the woman who had owned the store, but fortunately, she managed. Hopefully, she'd never have such difficulty again.

Why the hell are you asking me? Devil growled, It is _your _gift to _him._

She said nothing and turned her attention back outside. She was unaware of the 13-year-old's staring eyes.

Eleven in the morning soon came. Baek burst into the room, tired, though had a hyperactive grin on his face. Both children looked to him, a tad confused to his behaviour, but were glad to see him at long last. His hands were poised behind his back.

He looked between them, almost bursting with delight, before bringing out the two presents, "Merry Christmas!"

The Korean, long done with his breakfast, walked over towards his Master and took the gift that was jutting out at him. He started to move back towards the counter top, tearing up the paper very happily, "Thanks Baek."

The Tae Kwon Do teacher smiled back and walked across to the little foreign girl who was still sitting huddled in the corner, half comfortable with the people she had known now for four months, but was still secluded and afraid to open up to them. He squatted on his knees, and presented the gift to her with both hands, aware of her forest green eyes darting around, inspecting his face, "For you, Razer."

They drifted away, now observing the other student. He pulled out two CDs, one by Atreyu and the other by Papa Roach. She had heard him play their music before, and she enjoyed it. Perhaps he would share with her in due time. But still, she felt closer to the home she could have had, and she was grateful for it.

She looked back to the man, noticing that he was still there with her gift. The corner of her lips turned up slightly as she shook her head firmly, her slightly trembling fingers curling up, "I don't have anything for you though, Master… I can't accept this."

"Don't worry about it. I like giving presents, not receiving. Please, take it."

Razer seized it, gently prying it from his bigger hands. She ran her fingers around the wrapping, trying to find the sticky tape so she didn't tear the green and red paper completely. With a slight tug, the tape was ripped free, and it unravelled by itself, revealing a small Pegasus plush toy. It reminded her of the few good times at home, and all the stories she had been told. She hugged it, allowing the wrapping paper to slide away, realising that he was trying to give her a piece of something she knew, could possibly miss, and understood, "Thank you."

A hand came and stroked her head, before it left, "I made it myself. Merry Christmas, Razer."

He went to leave again, going to get another cup of coffee. She remained seated, turning over the gift in her hands, observing it. It was white, had blue eyes, and it was incredibly soft. With a slight nod, she pulled it closer towards her. It would make a better thing to hug instead of her scrawny legs.

All the while, the 12-year-old remained blissfully unaware of Hwoarang's unnerving glancing and mental grumbling. He was flicking through the lyric booklet to the Papa Roach CD, occasionally looking at her, with very few thoughts in his head (though all of them were related to her). Such a little attention seeking bitch, honestly.

And he had _never _seen her smile.

It didn't surprise him that she had nothing for Doo San, and was pretty damn sure that she had nothing for him either. He himself had nothing for either of them – he couldn't afford it. So, as always, when stuck in this situation, he offered his services for a day to his Father figure, whether they be tidying the dojang or cooking dinner (albeit horribly).

The 40-year-old had finally left the room, going down the corridor. Feeling it was time to follow suit, he gathered his things, sliding them off the counter, and took a few steps forward, heading towards his room where he intended to listen to his new CDs in private silence.

He is leaving, Devil said, If you do not get him now, you will not be able to give him the gift.

_But –_

Go!

Taking a deep breath in, she spoke, "…Hwoarang…?"

She shrunk back slightly in her corner as piercing sienna eyes looked towards her. He backtracked a little, placing his items on the countertop once more, and took a few steps towards her direction, arms folded across his chest snugly. He spoke after a brief pause, a deafening silence, "What?"

Swallowing, she stood up slowly, shaking and somewhat frightened. She placed her gift on the wooden floors and took small steps towards him, still looking at the ground. Her hands were behind her back, and between them, she constantly swapped the box holding the rocket pendant in her hands, as though to try and ease her nerves. Of course, that didn't work. Each step still felt like an eternity for her, no matter how hard she fought.

Finally standing before him, she extended one of her hands, the small, navy box still firmly in the palm of her hand. She didn't notice Hwoarang's breath freeze, nor his heart's giant leap to his throat in an apprehensive fashion. Regardless, she was pretty sure that he was surprised at the gesture. After all, he had called her a heartless, egotistical bitch a few times before she ran away. For all she knew, he still thought that way after they 'made up' a little.

It was gently taken from her quivering hand. Her hand limply fell to her side as the Greek spoke shakily, "I spent everything I brought with me from home… and everything I could find in my time here so far on it. It took a while to find it and buy it and all because I cannot speak Korean… Merry Christmas. I hope you like it…"

She heard his almost inaudible surprised gasp and dared to take a peek through her hair. He was clearly shocked and did not expect the gesture. There was another emotion on his face, one she could not quite pin point, though it was an expression she hadn't seen on his visage before, as though he was touched by the act.

Razer looked back down to the ground wholly, not knowing what else to say or do. She heard the chain rattle, and soon enough, the box was placed by his feet awkwardly. She saw the pendant twist and spin slightly, suspended in midair, still being carefully observed. Silently, she rubbed her left arm, afraid, unaware of the growing smile on the Korean's face.

If she had looked up, she would have seen that it was on him now, the pendant sitting so close to his heart.

It felt as though Hwoarang was watching her. She felt unsettled, like when her Father would give her a dark, menacing glare for a noticeable period of time. What was he going to say? Was he going to simply thank her and leave? Was he going to mock her for her stupidity and throw the item to the ground, laughing?

She froze entirely when she felt hands touch her arms. It was not a hard touch, but rather a very soft and gentle one, as though cautious. She shivered slightly, the actions almost completely unknown to her, and her head snapped up, still afraid as evident in her glassy eyes. She noticed his eyebrows furrow for a moment, as though it was strange to notice something that he didn't normally notice, though it quickly faded away.

She was softly pulled into a hug, something which was unbelievable. This boy… was one of the most unfeeling, shitty walls that she had ever known… and here he was, hugging her tightly against him. As his chin rested atop her light brown hair, she lifted her own arms and hugged him in return with the same, unyielding strength.

He closed his eyes, "I love it. Thank you. Merry Christmas."

Squeezing him a little tighter, she turned her head, resting her cheek on his shoulder, and closed her eyes. She was thankful that he liked his gift, and she was thankful that at last, they had stopped fighting. It was clear by the look on his face that he had had enough, and the constant taunting back and forth wouldn't happen on a continuous, threatening basis again.

Unbeknownst to her, her lips had completely curved upwards. It wasn't until she pulled away from the hug, her hands still on his back (and visa versa) did she noticed _exactly _what was going on with her, and she almost didn't believe it. She could see her face in the reflection of his goggles, which were nestled upon his hairline, and she also noticed it in Hwoarang himself when the goofy grin on his visage expanded in size.

At long last, she was smiling again.


	9. Learning

_If it is in _normal _style, then it is speech.  
If it is in italics, then it is thought.  
If it is in __**bold,**__ then it is the individual's natural tongue.  
If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil.

* * *

_

Author's Note: Guys guys guys! I'm back :D But updates will still be slow :3

* * *

_**Chapter Nine: Learning**_

_The four weeks that had passed were wonderful. This was clearly the start of a great friendship._

_There were no taunts or sneers. There was merely laughter and smiles. It seemed that the small (though costly) gesture had ceased all former rivalries. If anything, they were acting more like friends, a fact that pleased Baek so, so much. He didn't have to break them up like he used to, and he didn't have to necessarily worry about them. Their words were cautious, and their actions were warm._

_Neither were alone anymore, forced to carry their burdens in silence. He had been alone for far too long, and she needed a friend. In each other, they finally had that. They could grow together, and help one another with their problems. If anything were to happen to their Master, they would have each other, and that was what's truly important._

_Currently, they were playing 'hide and seek' in the backyard. Razer was the one searching, digging through the high snow in some areas in case, for some reason, the person hiding had decided to bury himself. This was not the case, as Hwoarang had craftily managed to climb high into the cherry blossom tree, the petals obscuring a majority of his body from her vision. _

_Though they were metres apart, Baek indeed noticed the happy smile on the Korean's face. He was standing at the veranda door, one hand in the pocket of his jeans, and the other was holding onto the white, cordless phone. It was firmly pressed against his ear as he continued speaking to a friend on the other side of the line, "I'm telling you Jun, their transformation has been remarkable."_

_The woman on the other side of the line was none other than Jun Kazama, a former Iron Fist participant. They had kept in contact since they left the 2__nd__ Tournament, checking up on one another every so often to see if things were running smoothly on the other's end. Jun often spoke of her son, Jin, in the same fashion that Baek spoke of Hwoarang. They had even contemplated introducing the two boys to one another if neither of them started making friends, and soon. The Japanese woman thought it was wonderful that at long last, the little loner had a friend, "After what unfortunately happened to him as a child, I am glad he has someone who can help him through it, who is of his own age."_

_He said nothing, watching as the foreigner located the boy, pointing at him, saying how he had now been found, and how hiding in something so absurdly tall was cheating. The 13-year-old merely grinned and jumped out of the tree, turned away from her, covered his eyes and started to count to ten, causing Athane to panic and run inside as her hiding spot, almost pushing Baek over in the process._

"_Baek? Are you there?"_

"_Sorry Jun, I was distracted," he replied ruefully, watching the Greek skitter around to behind him, thereafter putting a finger to her lips. Her hands were firmly latched on the back of his red vest, and she was peeking out from his left side, watching as Hwoarang began to look through the garden, "Razer, I'm not a hiding place."_

"_Shh!" she countered in a hushed voice, "He will find me otherwise. He is good at this game…"_

_He smiled and rolled his eyes, the two of them watching the teenager search for his accomplice. Jun, meanwhile, continued to speak to her fellow tournament participant, "Jin is starting to talk to other children now. I guess this trip to Tokyo is doing him good, if only to get him to interact with others. We have to go back to Yakushima soon, probably in about… a week's time."_

"_Good to hear, and I'm sure you'll be happier amongst nature than your work-hungry kinsmen."_

"_Indeed. It is too busy here for my liking… Well, it was good to talk with you, but I'm afraid I must go now. I will write to you sometime soon."_

"_Sure. Take care, Jun."_

"_Good bye, Baek."_

_They both hung up, just as Hwoarang came inside, looking up at his mentor, "__**Baek, have you seen Razer?**__"_

"_**She's behind me,**__" he drawled, smirking silently._

_The younger Korean peered around the corner, indeed seeing his friend. He grinned, "Boo."_

"_Dammit, this is not fair…" she whined, though was unable to hide the smirk that was on her face._

"_Wanna play a different game then?" Hwoarang suggested._

"_Sure."_

_Baek interrupted, "I've got a good one…" he tapped the 12-year-old on the shoulder, "Tag, you're it."_

_When she realised what had happened, the two Koreans took off hurriedly._

A random statement from the boy had announced drew Razer's attention. She stopped reflecting on that moment that was at least a month ago, feeling her smile drop off her face. She had a lot of fun that day. She didn't know of, or see any father-figures play with their… 'children' like Baek had done. All the Fathers she had seen back home were simply working all the time. They had no time for their offspring.

"I have an idea."

She looked to the owner of the voice, no longer staring out the window. Doo San had gone grocery shopping, "And what might this idea be?"

Hwoarang came and sat next to her, propping up one leg on the lounge. He looked at her, grinning, "Let's play a game."

"What game do you have in mind?"

"It's a game called 'This Or That'. So basically, a question game. The person being questioned is given two choices, and they have to pick _one _answer from it. So like, if you ask me 'boxers or briefs', I'd pick an answer from that. It'll help us get to know each other a bit better and stuff, y'know? Do you wanna play?"

She turned in her chair and nodded slightly, moving her hair out of the way, "Okay. You can go first."

"Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm… Flying or laser eyes? For a superpower."

Devil howled with laughter, Oh, I _adore _his choices!

She slouched in the lounge a little and rubbed her wrist, looking down at her hands, "Um… flying. Uh… boxers or briefs?"

"Taking my example, hm?"

"I could not think of anything!"

"Uh-_huh_. Boxers. Lollies or biscuits?"

"Biscuits. Ummm… Birthday or Christmas?"

"Birthday! It's not far away either. Come onnnnn March the 9th! Stupid February. Anywayyyyy, cuddles or kisses?"

"Why are you asking such a thing?" she inquired, bewildered, her hands pressing closer and closer together.

"I've seen how you eye Tae-Yang in class," he grinned, noticing her embarrassment. He patted her shoulder gently and friendlily, then winked in a lightly-teasing manner, "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone about your little crush on him. Maybe I can tell him what you prefer in terms of cuddles of kisses, hahahaha."

"Cuddles," she snapped, biting her tongue to keep from doing or saying something stupid.

Silence.

"Go again, I cannot think of a question for you. Sorry."

He nodded slightly, "Cats or dogs?"

"Dogs."

A pause. He scratched his chin in thought, "Chocolate or ice cream?"

"Chocolate," she replied, still looking at her hands, not looking up at him.

Hwoarang grabbed the top of her head and gently turned it so she was facing him directly, instead of looking at her hands. He spoke, "Raze, this game is supposed to help us get to know each other better, you know?"

Her green eyes locked onto the 13-soon-to-be-14-year-old's sienna ones, "I know…"

"So then…" he let go of her head, confident that her gaze would stay on him, which it did, and looked ahead of himself, "Why am I the only one asking the questions? You don't wanna know about me? Isn't this how friends start to get to know each other? By asking a couple of questions here and there?"

Eyes brightened slightly, "Friend…?"

He looked at her for a moment before smiling sincerely and nodding, "Yeah. Friend."

She said nothing and was undoubtedly fighting hard to control a smile of her own. Devil seemingly disappeared the moment he confirmed his words, as though she was no longer there. Through all the taunting, through all the previous hardships, a solid foundation for a friendship had finally formed between them. She just didn't expect him to see her in such a light so soon. And if he considered her to be his friend, then… so did she.

Her first friend, her first _real _friend. She had _none _back home. Sure, there was an acquaintance here and there, but Razer used to bury herself in learning to try and distract herself from the horrors of home. Books transported her to a different place, and that is _exactly _where she wanted to be for those horrible, lonesome years. And if anyone attempted to approach her and become her friend, she would simply turn and leave.

They didn't need to know about her.

"I mean like…" the Korean hesitated before speaking again, "I was a real ass to you when you first came here, and for that I'm really sorry. I don't take to new people very well. But as I got used to you and whatever… you're not as bad as I thought. You're really, really nice, and you're fun to be around. You're _real. _I don't really know how I can explain it. Lots of people pretend to be who they're not – you don't do any of that stuff, or anything related to it. I can… Hell, _I trust you. _Ask Baek, I pretty much don't trust _anybody. _You two are an exception."

"Thank you, and I apologise for being a bitch as well."

He smiled, "You're my first real friend. Do you have any idea what that feels like? Kids our age would have heaps by now."

"Actually, I do have an idea. I know _exactly _how you feel right now because, you're my first real friend too. I had none back in Greece… It was… part of the reason I ran away… I couldn't handle being alone like that anymore… Twelve years without anybody. Even though you do not consider them 'real', so to say, at least you have Changmin and Shin Min. And that is truly better than pure solitude."

He patted her shoulder lightly before leaning forward, his gaze now dropping to the timber floors. He stared at them, uninterested, speaking, "But you had your family still, and that's better than nothing. What are your parents like?"

"Oh… They're…"

Dead. One was stabbed and sliced to death by her own husband, a man she had _nothing _but love for. The other? Why, _you _murdered him yourself, with supernatural powers. A laser through his fleshy body, the destruction of his pathetic, mortal soul. For the hell of it, let's whack in two grandparents who care about you, and two other grandparents who think you are nothing but a little _slut. _Amusing.

"They were always busy," she lied, her fingers curling up, "I'd prefer not to talk about them."

"Would it help if I went first?" he inquired cautiously, reluctantly and hesitantly. He looked at her for a moment.

She looked to him and bit her lip a little, "If you really wish to say something, then go ahead. I'll listen."

The moment she said that, fear crawled into his eyes. She noticed, and he knew that she had seen it. His head quickly dropped back to the floor before he was left too vulnerable to her for too long, and he inwardly felt his insides turn over and over again. It was always going to come to this – if she was going to stick around, then he needed her to know why he was the way he was, and exactly what had happened to him to make him so wary, amongst other things, of the world around him.

"You don't have to tell me –"

"I want to tell you."

"Okay…"

He scratched the back of his head and cleared his throat, "I've noticed that sometimes… you quirk your eyebrow when I call Baek by his first name, or 'Master'. You've clearly noticed that I don't say… 'Dad'. That's because we're not related, at all… He's… just a man. He's not my Dad, he's not my Grandpa, he's not my Uncle… He's just my teacher. He means more to me than that, but in reality, that's all Baek actually is…

"A long time ago…" he had to restrain himself for a moment. It felt as though his throat was closing up rapidly, as the memories clawed their way into the front of his mind. He felt a pain in his chest, and he swore his hands were shaking. He couldn't visually tell, because the memories were taking up everything he saw. He didn't see floorboards anymore.

_A younger Hwoarang looked up to the towering man in front of him. He had black, messy hair, and was wearing brown shorts, black sandals and a slightly unbuttoned, white shirt. This was the man that had all of the 5-year-old's admiration, right down to the smallest details. He wanted to be _just _like him._

"_**Hey, Hwoarang!**__" he grinned, looking down on him._

_He put his hands up and made grabbing motions, face full of joy, "__**Pick me up, Dad!**__"_

He bit his lip fiercely and cleared his throat, speaking again, "I didn't know them for very long. Five years isn't a very long time, and I don't think any culture or anyone at any age in any religion would disagree with me. And sadly I barely remember them, and that alone is as upsetting, if not more than what actually happened to them…"

_His Father did his bidding, and soon enough, he was sitting proud and tall on the shoulders of the man. His tiny hands clutched the work-worn ones firmly, and he surveyed the area through sienna eyes. He looked to his left, where a woman stood, a slim hand on her round stomach, and the other running through her shoulder-length hair._

_She smiled, "__**Be careful up there, son. We don't want you falling.**__"_

_He smiled back, "__**I'll be okay, Mum.**__"_

"Dad's name was Min-Woo. I think… I think he was a banker, I don't really remember… He was a great Dad. In my eyes… he could do no wrong. Mum's name was Iseul… She didn't work at the time, she was pregnant with my little brother. She used to volunteer at the church sometimes, though. You know, helping out with a Fair here and there, and so on. Stuff like that…

"She made the _best _sweets," he looked up and chuckled a little, idly picking at a hole in his jeans, "_The best._ Kids and adults alike would just go insane over them, every time she sold them. She should've run a bakery… Would've been the best bakery in all of Seoul, no contest…" he wistfully looked out the window, "Maybe even in all of Korea."

Razer nodded slightly, listening intently. She noticed him phase out for the third time.

_He let go of one of his Father's hands, and swiftly, he readjusted the large goggles that were sitting on his head, keeping his own black hair back. Afterwards, he pulled dark blue jacket closer around him, the fluffy, white part from his hood tickling his cheeks. He grabbed his Father's hand again as they started to walk, heading towards the grocery store._

_It was a cold autumn afternoon. Leaves were turning a healthy brown, and were beginning to shrivel up. Winds would blow them away, idly flying through the air. They were cold winds too, causing goosebumps to rise on various unsuspecting people. This was no exception for the young Maeng family, though they tried not to let it get to them._

_They kept close to the parked cars. They didn't want to exactly become road kill today. They needed to get a couple of groceries, such as milk, and whatever else was missing from their fridge. Perhaps the store would also have a few other things. Hwoarang was going to start school soon, and he needed a few extra supplies. He was so excited to go._

_The young Korean squinted for a moment, looking at the entrance. The closer they got, the clearer the figures appeared to be. His parents were happily talking with one another, and weren't paying attention to what was ahead of them. There seemed to be a commotion. There were a large mass of people at the front of the door, angrily yelling things he didn't quite understand._

_He tugged his Father's hands, "__**Dad? What's going on?**__"_

_They were at the end of the car park now, standing a few feet away from the angry screaming and pending violence. Min-Woo and Iseul stopped and looked ahead of them, realising that their son was addressing the mess before them. One particular man looked absolutely furious, as though he was going to burst into a thousand profanities, and a thousand more violent attacks. He was already shoving people out of the way so he could slam his hands on the glass door._

"_**I think we'd better go,**__" Iseul remarked, tugging at her husband's shirt._

_The furious man screamed, "__**Your prices are fucking ridiculous! What do you mean there's nothing left?!**__"_

_Min-Woo set Hwoarang down, still holding onto one of his hands, and nodded, turning way, "__**Yeah, we'll find somewhere else.**__"_

"_**Too good to shop here, huh?**__"_

_He looked over his shoulder, ushering his child in front of him and out of the way. He furrowed his eyebrows and observed the man, who had seen them, and watched as he approached them. There was a large frown on his face, and his eyebrows were firmly pressed together. The Father spoke, "__**I beg your pardon?**__"_

"_**You heard me!**__" he growled, fishing a dirty hand in his trench coat pocket, "__**Too good to shop here, hm? What, are we not good enough to be your fellow Koreans!? Rich bastards, looking down on us! You don't deserve what you have! Scum!**__"_

_Iseul looked to the man, quickly judging that he was insane. She began to take several steps back, pulling a frightened Hwoarang along with her. She listened to her husband speak calmly and firmly, "__**That's not our intent at all! We need to get food quickly, and judging by what you are yelling out, there is nothing left in that store. So we're just going to find another store and be on our way.**__"_

_The man glared at them, one of his eyes twitching. It seemed that some of the people in the mob had noticed his disappearance, and noticed that he was harassing the family. One approached hurriedly, "__**What are you doing? Leave them alone, they're giving you no trouble!**__"_

_In a lightning fast motion, he whipped out a hand gun from his trench coat and fired immediately. It was a young woman who had approached, and it was her who now lay dead on the ground, a single bullet hole in the direct centre of her forehead oozing crimson red blood. The noise caused the mob to suddenly scatter and scream. Min-Woo and Iseul were horrified, and immediately, with their child, bolted, again following the side of the cars._

"_**Where do you think **_**you're **_**going?! Get back here, rich assholes!**__" he growled, aiming again._

_The second bullet sped through the air and struck the kind, loving Mother in the chest. The sudden attack seemed to happen in slow motion to both men, as they turned and looked over their shoulders. Hwoarang screamed out, watching as Iseul fell to the ground, blood cascading down the front of her shirt. Her haunting eyes remained open, staring out into the space before her, unmoving and dead._

_He could feel his own tears falling, and the angry shouts of his Father. He was roughly thrown to one side, between two parked cars, for hiding, and was briefly spoken to, "__**Hwoarang Maeng, my son… please, hide, and stay hidden.**__"_

_It seems the man didn't see the action, and was still simply laughing his head off. The youth lowered himself onto the ground wholly, shivering, peering out from below the car, watching his Father's quick footsteps. Soon enough, a second gunshot went off, and the body of his Father dropped to the ground, lying along side his Mother. From his hiding spot, he could still see blood snake down the asphalt._

_He breathed in a sniffle, tasting salty tears, and cried in silence, finally hearing the sirens scream._

"They didn't arrest him…" he murmured, rubbing his eyes furiously, "They tried… but he killed himself before they had the chance, right in front of them. They investigated his family background and he himself… eventually… He had a mental condition… was poor, and so on. The works… He wasn't right upstairs, obviously…

"After… a lot of searching, they found me. A lot of the people had noticed me originally… and kept saying to the police 'the child… the child… you have to find the child'… I had snuck my way back to the car… and just hid next to it… For a good hour…" the 13-year-old breathed in shakily and continued on through a weak voice, "And when they found me… God they looked so sad… But they had _no idea…_" he curled up in his chair and covered his face with a hand, starting to cry without hindrance, "_N-no… idea…_"

She gently placed an arm around him and squeezed him in silent comfort, "I am sorry to hear that. Such a terrible thing to see at such a young age…"

He took the comfort, leaning towards her slightly, though still a complete wreck. He tried to speak through his sobs, and to his surprise, he could form fairly coherent words, "What w-was… the nail… in the c-coffin so to say, was the rest of my fucking family… T-they didn't want me. I was seen as a selfish, rude, i-irresponsible trouble maker, a no good k-kid who wouldn't_… _amount to _anything_… And when they basically cast me away… I s-swore to myself to _never_ let a-anyone into my heart again… Because they'd break the pieces that are l-left… And to protect what remained… I _deliberately _turned into _exactly _what they accused me of being… That's why I'm like this," he looked up at her, "To protect myself and those around me."

"How did you meet Baek…?" she asked in a hushed voice, rubbing his back cautiously and lightly.

"Same as you, actually… I had run away… from my Aunt's house… I was kicking something down the street… And bumped into h-him. He looked at me long and hard, noticing how I hadn't eaten in about a week, maybe two… God I was so hungry… My clothes were torn and tattered… I looked sick… and so on. I was clearly not with anyone, so he took me to the dojang and fed me… Housed me a bit and so on… I saw him practicing Tae Kwon Do, and asked if I could take his classes. He said it was fine, but he had to tell me where my f-family was. I didn't answer him for two years.

"Once I told him that I had family… He tried t-taking me back. But I wouldn't let him. I couldn't go back to them… When he realised that I wouldn't leave… he let me stay, and told me that if I ever wanted to leave, I could. I'd never do that to him, he's done so much for me… And when I realised that… I deserted my family name in favour of his. But only for school and stuff… Otherwise I seriously just go by 'Hwoarang'. I keep those who cared close to me, in given name… But the rest of the family… can go fuck themselves."

_I can relate,_ she thought quietly.

The Korean looked to her, still teary-eyed, and smiled, "Hey, thanks for listening. I didn't mean to get so out of hand."

"I just appreciate that you told me, so thank you for that."

He nodded slightly and turned to hug her back, glad to have that shadow revealed, because it alone explained everything. No longer did he have to hide behind it. At home, he could finally be himself, and _wholly_. He didn't have to restrict any piece of him around her, and seeing as Baek already knew, well… The cold asshole charade could be put down in the privacy of the dojang.

If only Razer had his courage.

But it was through this did she realise something – Devil was right all along. Her words echoed through her mind consistently, that low, mean and surprisingly wise murmur reminding her of exactly _how much _the creature _did _know of the world around her. And that fact in itself frightened her deeply.

_The lonely little boy, so like you, trying to be strong, helplessly watching his bitter heart freeze…_

How much more did she know?

In that little talk, every fact had been confirmed. She already knew that he was lonely, because the only two friends he had were Shin Min and Seo Changmin, but she had no idea about his family. She thought that he had moved out to stay with Baek to gain more discipline, or something, and often visited his family. How wrong she was.

The 'so like you' not only meant the loneliness, like she had originally interpreted, but the family situation. She had nothing, and he had nothing as well. They had relatives somewhere, but they had both abandoned them at different stages of their lives. Ironically, both had seen the demises of their parents, and knew _exactly _how the other felt, despite the fact that the foreigner had decided to keep such information withheld.

His heart was in pieces from the event, and to deter everyone and anyone from crushing the fragile bits he held in his hands, he deliberately made them bitter to keep them away. Nobody wants a bitter heart to have and hold. Nobody wants to pick the pieces up and try to get close enough to help him. Hell, he doesn't want anyone to help him, nor for someone to get close enough to break them.

It was forbidden territory. It was fenced off and barricaded, so no one new could get in, and no person nor memory of his could leave. He sat in the centre, holding the keys to the doors, his fingers on the buttons. He was armed, and if anyone dared come close, they'd better run, because _he would _fire. Protect himself and Baek, and also the few memories he had left of Min-Woo and Iseul.

But he lowered his guard here and stuck his head over the top of the first wall.

Was he trying to let her in?


	10. Finding

_If it is in _normal _style, then it is speech.  
If it is in italics, then it is thought.  
If it is in __**bold,**__ then it is the individual's natural tongue.  
If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil.

* * *

_Author's Note: This is turning so much into a damn... "original" fic that it's not funny -.- Trust me, there will be A LOT more fighting later on. Sigh._

* * *

_

_**Chapter Ten: Finding**_

"**How do we wake him up?**"

"**Perhaps we should jump on him?**"

"**Are you kidding, Shin?!**" Changmin yelled in a hushed voice, "**He'll fricken kick us in the balls!**"

The younger of the two cousins blinked and grinned, speaking sarcastically, "**You have balls? Since when?**"

Slapping his head, Changmin turned and looked to Razer, who was standing nearby at the door with a wrapped up gift in her hands. She was observing it idly. Behind her was Baek, who was just sticking his head in briefly to observe the situation, leaving thereafter. Looking back to his companion, he spoke, jabbing his thumb towards the girl, "**You know English, right? Ask her what she thinks is best for this situation.**"

Shin had turned to ask, but he found that she had left and was simply waiting in the lounge room. He growled, "**I'm not going all the way over there! Let's just **_**both **_**jump on him at the same time, okay? That way we'll both be punished if he's in a crabby mood. It's only fair.**"

"**Fine, on the count of three,**" he began, getting into position with his friend. He would jump on their buddy from the side, and Shin would jump from the bottom of the bed, essentially caging the whole of his sleeping form. Changmin's dark eyes flickered up briefly, seeing the determined smirk on Shin's face. He got ready, "**One, two, **_**three!**_"

Enthusiastically, Shin leapt onto his friend, however Changmin did not. He didn't want to be injured somehow, and by jumping on Hwoarang, that was practically asking for it. He did, however, shout 'Happy Birthday' with his friend, and the joint effort had scared the birthday boy beyond all belief, aggressive swears in two languages being thrown this way and that; to the point where he violently threw Shin-Min to the floor, knocking over the other male in the process.

Once the newly-turned 14-year-old calmed down, he glowered at the two of them with tired eyes and a happy smile, watching as they both moved to stand, "**You're both pricks, you know that? I was having the most **_**awesome **_**dream, or series of dreams rather; and you guys had to screw it up! **_**Why?!**_"

"**Um, it's your birthday?**" Changmin smirked as the realisation visually appeared on his face, "**Today's the 9****th**** of March, man! You're finally fourteen!**"

Shin slung an arm around Hwoarang friendlily, "**And to celebrate, we're dragging you outta here and we're gonna go do all sorts of shit! It's our present – whatever you want, we'll pay for it. We'll pay for the train in and your food as well. Just don't bust up our wallets too much, we need money you know!**"

Baek burst in, bearing a similar, sly smile as the other two Koreans. He was fishing through his wallet. It had appeared that he had overheard everything that had just been said, and pulled out a nice load of cash, "**Take this money as well just in case you guys blow the lot. Happy birthday kiddo, I've got your breakfast ready on the table. Razer's inside with our present to you.**"

He looked down to his stomach, which growled in protest at the lack of contents, and hopped out of bed, again shoving Shin aside. Changmin moved out of the way, having learnt his lesson last time, "**Fooooooooooooood…**"

His two friends followed him out, the oldest of the three speaking, "**Hwo, you sound like it's the first time you've ever heard of, or have seen food before. Have you been eating? I mean look at you, you're damn thin! I can barely see any muscle definition on you! With all your Tae Kwon Do training, I should be able to see a hell of a steely six pack on your stomach, not to mention fucking firm thighs!**"

Haunted by the fact that Shin was possibly checking him out, Hwoarang seeped into defence mode and attacked, "**Shin, stop checking me out, and please don't make such descriptions? You're really scaring me here!**"

"**I love you too honey,**" he made a kissy noise then started to laugh, alongside Changmin.

Reigning in the urge to assault him physically, he refocussed his attention on the Greek girl, whose eyes were darting back and forth between the three, clearly wondering what the conversation was about, not to mention the laughter and the sound effects. He grinned slightly, her naïve expression amusing him in silence.

Eventually, she looked back to him, noticing him just stand there in his Homer Simpson boxers. She waved good morning to him and spoke softly, clearly cautious in doing anything else due to their new company, "Happy birthday."

He waved back and bowed his head slightly in appreciation. She knew that he wanted to hold up his mask, "Thank you."

It took a fair whack of time for the birthday boy to gobble up his bacon and eggs, due to the constant harassment from Shin-Min and Seo Changmin. They were cackling amongst themselves, making comments here and there, and even boycotted his breakfast at one point, much to his frustration. He kneed Changmin for that, and didn't apologise when he was on the floor, nursing his family jewels. They eventually left him alone after that incident.

When the pair had skittered off elsewhere to test out Baek's new equipment (with permission, of course, reasoning that they most definitely wouldn't want to get on the bad side of a professional Tae Kwon Do practitioner, let alone a _teacher_), it was then that Athane skittered up towards him with his gift firmly in her hands. He eyed it firmly, refusing to pry it from her hands, even when she pressed it out to him, "You didn't have to."

"I wanted to," she countered, "_We _wanted to, Baek and I."

"Your friendships are more than enough," he simply replied.

She smiled and placed it on the countertop, "Please take it."

Giving up, he moved the now empty plate aside and opened the hand made card, which had clearly been done by Baek. He was always a creative one. This year's card had a nice pattern on the front. He was unable to hide the grin when he scanned over both of their birthday wishes, even noticing the dog that Baek had spontaneously drawn on the bottom. Razer simply had done fancy writing for the 'Happy birthday' part.

His sienna eyes briefly flickered to the girl, and the teacher who had come to stand beside her, and quickly, he set to work in unwrapping the bulky present. Sliding his fingers along the crevasses, as to remove the sticky tape, he moved the paper aside, seeing the two gifts idly sitting there. One was a game he had been wanting for a while, curtesy of Doo San, and the other was a photo album, from his fellow student.

To this, he was confused, however before he had the chance to thank them both and ask why, the 12-year-old had answered him, "I didn't know what you wanted, so I went for a little wander again, albeit I got lost. Silly me. But um… I thought that if I got you this, you would be able to keep your memories close to you. That is the intent."

He smiled and stood up from his seat, leaning across to hug her, "Thanks, you thoughtful girl."

Baek grinned at the scene and turned to leave, taking the plate with him, "I'd better start washing the dishes."

The thundering sound of feet was soon heard, and the two quickly let go of each other before Shin and Changmin lumbered inside and caught them. Hwoarang set up the mask once more before they entered, feigning indifference to the foreigner, leaning to the side with crossed arms. His sienna eyes narrowed a little, watching as the pair tumbled in, yelling all sorts of things.

"**Hwoarang Hwoarang Hwoarang!**" Changmin remarked, "**Hurry up, get dressed and let's goooo already!**"

Rolling his eyes, he muttered something inaudible under his breath and moved into his room, hurriedly whacking on a pair of black baggy jeans, sandals, and a long, crimson shirt, the front of it partially open. It had a lighter red dragon pattern, which snaked around the torso of the clothing, the head finishing on his right shoulder. The wallet chain rattled against his thigh, making him jump slightly, reminding him of the two items in his pocket – his wallet and his phone. Quickly fixing his hair, he slipped his goggles on, and looked at himself in the mirror. He might run into a girl in the city, he needed to look damn good.

Camera. He needed a camera as well. He wanted to put that photo album to good use, starting today. Fishing through his drawer, moving aside socks and shorts, he came across the small thing, and slid it in his pocket. It didn't bulge out so much, so for all he cared, they could assume that it was his phone (even though it was with his wallet in the other pocket).

Still, something was missing, and it took him a moment to realise what it was.

Fishing a hand down his shirt, he pulled out the rocket pendant and gently let it drop. The piece fell against him with a dull thud, and satisfied, he turned to leave, flicking off the light. He closed his bedroom door behind him, and with a slight smile, ran down the main corridor and out of the training area of the dojang, seeing his fellow Koreans waiting for him at the door.

"Have a good time," Razer said.

He stopped, turning, and thought for a moment. Despite himself, he spoke, dropping the mask unknowingly, "Come with me."

"What?"

He hesitated, realising his current vulnerability, before speaking again, "I said, 'come with me'."

"But this is a day out with your friends," she spluttered, "Go with them. Have fun with them."

"You seem to frequently forget that you're my friend too, Raze," he remarked, heading back inside, much to the curiosity of Changmin (though Shin knew what was being said). Quickly assessing her clothing, he judged that she didn't need to go and change into something more comfortable. Grabbing her small wrist lightly, he pulled her along with him, "And I want to spend the day with _all _of my friends. The Birthday Boy wants Miss Mediterranean with him."

She was still trying to get out of it. As much as she wanted to go with him, Devil simply uttered in her mind over and over again facts that simply weren't true, "But Miss Mediterranean does not wish to be a bother to the Birthday Boy."

"Miss Mediterranean never was a bother to the Birthday Boy."

With that said and done, he pulled her along and out the door, announcing to his two friends that she'd be coming along.

The door closed and locked quietly, leaving Baek in the silent dojang by himself. Placing the clean dish into the rack next to him (so it could drain), he looked up at the window before him, still smirking as his hands now vigorously scrubbed a cup clean, removing the coffee stains at the bottom. As he did, his mind was elsewhere, thinking.

_How many more walls and doors must she go through before Hwoarang wholly accepts her? _

That smile on his face…

…_Or have I turned a blind eye to them for so long that she is already in his heart with me and his parents?_

He supposed it would be best to call Jun later and discuss it with her, if she was still in her Tokyo hotel.

* * *

"**Yeah well _I'm _so cool because I can do multiple back flips,**" Changmin stated.

"**Yeah? Well _I'm _so cool because I'm just overall awesomer than you!**" Shin sneered.

Razer muttered, "What are they going on about?"

"'I'm so cool that' blah blah. It's normal, we're just picking on each other," Hwoarang stated, turning to his friends, "**Sorry but I'm cooler. I was named after a martial art, _and _an elite group of male youths in the Silla Kingdom.**"

"**_All _of which mean 'flower knight...'**" Baek remarked from the door, turning away with a smirk.

"**Shut up!**"

"**Oh man, I'm so full of ice cream that I think I'm gonna burst…**" to illustrate his point, Shin burped, and then immediately made an unpleasant face.

Changmin inquired, furrowing his eyebrows together, "**What's wrong?**"

"**Dude, I think I just threw up a bit in my mouth!**" he remarked loudly.

He laughed, though was still disturbed by the thought, "**Gross!**"

Shoving the boy, he turned to Hwoarang and waved good bye, "**We'll see you at school. Happy birthday!**"

Hwoarang waved at his two leaving friends, thereafter closing the front door and turning to the last remaining friend. He clapped his hands together, ignoring the plastic bags that were swinging off his forearms, and spoke, "Right, what do you say to some video games? We can test out that game that Baek bought earlier. It's called 'Primal'."

"You only wanted it because of the attractive girl on the cover, am I correct?"

"Maaaaaaaaaaaybe!" he grabbed her wrist for the umpteenth time that day and pulled her to the living room, "But it's not just about the women, ya know. It's gotta have good graphics, a _great _story, decent game-play, and _actioooooooon baby! _Action is where the money is in these things. Action makes the video game industry _thrive._"

A deep voice cut in, making the pair freeze in their tracks, "And at five thirty in the afternoon, what do you think these people who made the games were doing at your age? Why, they were doing their homework, of course! Hop to it Hwoarang, you need to get your history assignment done. It's due tomorrow."

The youth looked to his Master, "But Baek, it's my birthday!"

"I know. You can stay up late tonight and play the game, but please finish your assignment first."

"Can't you do it for me?"

"Um, no."

"Fuck, I need to start…"

"Hwoarang?!"

"…_Fuck, _I shouldn't have said that!"

"Damn right you shouldn't have, and don't fucking swear!" he lightly smacked his student upside the head, "Get to work!"

Grumbling something under his breath, he let go of his friend's wrist and tottered off to his room to change into more comfortable clothes (mainly, lose the shoes) and dump his new found gifts (consisting of a guitar tab book, some guitar picks, a couple of vouchers, two shirts, and an SD card for his MP3 player) on the floor. He eventually came back out with his homework in hand, and his exercise book, and sat in the middle of the isolated dojang, writing out the essay by hand. If push came to shove, he could jump on the computer later.

Razer looked to Baek, "Why does he always work in there?"

"It's spacious and quiet, and we can't really bug him," he rubbed his temples, "I can't believe he didn't start the assignment."

"Maybe we can help him. What is it on?"

"It's on the First World War. I don't really know enough about it to help him out."

She tied her hair up into a ponytail, fiddling with the elastic in the process, "When I was in Greece, I would stay in the library during recess and lunch to study. I read a lot, and one of the things I liked to read about was the First World War. I was a history junkie… May I go and help him? It is his birthday after all."

Baek grinned and moved to the lounge, going to turn on the television, "Sure. Dinner will be ready in an hour and a half."

Nodding slightly, she tottered off towards her friend, her bare feet treading over the floorboards. She eventually stood behind him, unnoticed, and peered at his work, wondering what it said, knowing that she had no hope of understanding what it meant. She had learnt a few characters here and there, though it was still difficult for her to register them immediately.

"Is there a reason you're peeking over my shoulder?" he asked, looking up at her through wide eyes.

"World War One, huh?"

"Yeah. I need to pass this too, I'm failing the class badly. Way to go Hwoarang, another spectacular fail!"

"Now now, you haven't even finished the assignment yet…"

"I should be on failblog dot org."

She chuckled slightly at his statement. That website was highly amusing, "Did you want help?"

"Oh God yes, please."

* * *

"Wait wait, turn left here!"

"With what, the control pad or one of the joysticks? Why does one need so many directional outlets?!"

"The fucking –" he took the control out of her hands and did it himself.

"Fine," Razer said, "You play. I do not know why you offered it to me."

"Wanted you to be a part of it."

"This game is stupid."

"No it's not! You're just not following it right."

"Not my fault that I never played video games at home."

He stopped for a moment, bewildered, unaware that his character was getting hacked to bits by demonic monsters, "_Really?_"

"Yes."

"Spent too much time reading, hm?"

"I… was not allowed."

"…_Really?_" he watched as she nodded slightly, "God, I can't imagine that."

You cannot fathom the things that went on in her home _at all, _Hwoarang, let alone the very being that is tearing her down piece by piece from the inside, Devil chuckled, The torture that was deliberately enforced day in, day out, for twelve solid years. You think _you _know loneliness by name, Korean filth? You know _nothing._

_Shut up._

But it is true, isn't it? I mean, come on, you were not allowed to do things that normal children do, let alone play video games. I can give you a list, though I'm sure you remember. You couldn't play video games, you couldn't hang out with children your own age, you had to be home _immediately _after school just so you could be locked up in your room, you had to be _the best _child and student – better than _everyone –_

_Shut up, dammit._

Hmmm, what else –

"Shut up!"

The Korean silenced from his jabbering about the game and paused it, looking at her through narrowed sienna eyes. His hands were tightly gripping the controller as he spoke slowly and tried to keep calm, "What did you say?"

"I didn't mean that for you…" she murmured.

"Then who did you mean it for? A voice in your head?"

"…Yes…"

"Yeah they get the best of ya, don't they?"

Bewildered, she looked up, "Huh?"

He turned back to the screen, unpaused the game and manoeuvred the character towards the centre of the base, "Like you've got one side of your thoughts and then another, and they're pretty much fighting one another continuously. Like 'oh I like this shirt' against 'blah I can't afford it'…" he noticed her stunned expression from the corner of her eyes and chuckled, "It's not like everyone's got a demon inside or something."

Oh, believe me, I'm here and I can hear every word.

Razer ignored the devil within and chuckled at Hwoarang's remark, "Yeah."

Soon enough, soft footsteps were heard pattering in. The light in the lounge room was flicked on, and a tired Baek was standing there in his white pyjamas. His hair was left out, and it already looked ruffled, "Guys, I think its time to go to sleep. It's almost midnight. It's not advisable to stay up so late, and _you've_ got school tomorrow, Birthday Boy."

Athane stood and stretched her legs, "You are right. We are still young and need our sleep. Goodnight Master, goodnight Hwo."

She moved to go to her room, but was stopped by her friend, "The hell are you going?"

"To bed?"

"Doesn't the Birthday Boy get a hug?"

Rolling her eyes, she turned around, watching the 14-year-old turn off the PS2 and stand on his feet. Lazily tossing the beat-up controller next to the console and turned to face her, opening both his arms, waving her over. She tiredly moved into his hold and loosely wrapped her own arms around his form, squeezing him tightly for a moment (and being squeezed in return), before letting go with a small smile, retreating once again to her room.

The two males stood there for a moment in silence, casting occasional glances at one another, and at the door. Doo San looked at his student for a long moment before speaking in the privacy of their native language, "**She has changed you, and it's only been eight months since she arrived.**"

"**Everyone changes when they have a real friend,**" Hwoarang countered, sleepily smiling.

"**You're happy. I mean you're **_**genuinely **_**happy. I'm thrilled to see that, because for so long you were down in the dumps, and I mean **_**downnn **_**in the dumps. I wonder, for however long she stays, how much more will you change? And how much will **_**you **_**change **_**her?**_"

Sienna eyes darted towards his Master, who was turning and leaving. He flicked the light off.

"**June 6****th****.**"

The teacher stopped and looked over his shoulder, finding it difficult to see his student in the darkness, "**Wha…?**"

"**That's her birthday.**"

"**And?**"

"**I want to make something for her, and I want you to help me.**"

He tilted his head slightly, wondering where this act of consideration was coming from. He was finding the change difficult to comprehend.

"**Teach me how to sew.**"


	11. Poker Face

_If it is in _normal _style, then it is speech.  
If it is in italics, then it is thought.  
If it is in __**bold,**__ then it is the individual's natural tongue.  
If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil.

* * *

_

Author's Note: Just updating for the sake of updating. Writing is still very, very slow.

* * *

_**Chapter Eleven: Poker Face **_

Baek's wood-coloured eyes soared across the students before him. He had them sparring against one another, of different belts and different ages, and they were all doing pretty well against one another in their various portions of the dojang. Of course, he had them swap over every few minutes so that their skills were dispersed. It would be idiocy to constrict the person to one partner.

Hwoarang was currently against someone who was on the same belt as him (that belt being blue), and he clearly had the upper hand. He raised his left leg and brought it down on a fierce axe kick, the heel smashing into his opponents forearm guards. He moved back, hobbling a little, in pain, and brought up his own arms to defend against a well timed roundhouse kick.

He was, surprisingly, distracted. He was trying not to show it, however.

Sienna eyes constantly monitored Razer's opponent, who was none other than Tae-Yang. He was fifteen, quite tall, _very _muscular, and had short black hair that was styled up into a mini-mohawk. And clearly, though her head was in the fight, she was not making much effort to attack back, taking on the 'frightened' face as a disguise. She was clearly admiring him in silence. The subject of her awe seemed to realise this too, showing off with various kicks.

Deciding that enough was enough, he spoke clearly, his face blank, "**Stop!**"

Every student ceased movement, with a delay from the Greek.

"**Good work today,**" Baek remarked, "**I want you here again the same time tomorrow. Dismissed!**"

They bowed respectfully to him before heading off to wherever, be it the front door or in their little groups, still awaiting their family to pick them up. Baek moved to the corner of the room to grab a drink for himself, and Hwoarang left the room to change into something more comfortable, like his tracksuit pants and an old sweat shirt.

The 40-year-old's eyes drifted towards his other student, who's hands were behind her back. She was observing Tae-Yang closely, watching as he gathered his things, stuffed them into his little bag, and began to head to the door, briefly waving good bye at the teacher and a stray student here and there.

At the front door, which is where Razer was stationed, she spoke, eyes studying him, "Good spar."

Tae-Yang stopped and looked down on her, grinning slightly, "Yeah, good spar."

She chose her words carefully, not wanting to be vulnerable and not wanting to confuse him. Tae-Yang was not as familiar with English as Hwoarang, Baek and two others were. His knowledge of English was limited, as was the rest of the class' knowledge. There were a fair few students who didn't know one word of the language, "See you tomorrow."

He nodded a little, leaving, "Bye!"

She closed the door behind him and sighed to herself silently. With a pleased smile, she moved away and also left to get changed into something much more comfortable. As comfy as this… dobuk was, it was nothing compared to the good old baggy clothes. As she moved, she slipped off her gloves and hopped on one food to remove each foot guard.

Eventually, she made her way to the living area of the dojang, where Hwoarang was standing. His arms were firmly folded across his chest and he was observing her with an unreadable expression. Surprised, she looked at him, blinking rapidly, the smile sliding off her face quickly. All traces of its existence left completely, "…What?"

"I didn't think you _actually _liked Tae-Yang," he blurted, flicking his head towards the door.

"Well… I do."

Something seemingly broke in his eyes. If something did break, it was covered up hurriedly and proficiently. An unemotional expression remained firmly lodged on the youth's face. For a moment, he said nothing. Eventually, he did, "Oh."

"Is there a problem with that?" she inquired cautiously, stepping towards her room, placing a hand on the doorknob.

"He's bad for you."

She stopped and turned wholly, looking at him through slightly narrowed eyes. Her gloves and foot guards were still tucked firmly underneath her left arm. She blinked repeatedly for a moment before widening her eyes slightly in surprise. Both kids were unaware of Baek's hovering hawk eyes, observing them from the other room whilst he waited for the last of the students to leave the dojang, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

Bewildered, she repeated his statement, "He's 'bad' for me?"

"Yeah."

"What do you mean?"

Hwoarang leant off the counter and started to walk around the room, his gaze to the floor. His bare feet scuffed over the polished wood, squeaking merely once, "Well, first off… he's one of those people who thinks he's 'too cool'. He's probably got a girlfriend anyway, sorry to say. Secondly, if he _didn't _have one and did go out with you, he'd use you as a trophy. Like the whole, you know…" he looked up at her and used his hands animatedly in his example, "'I have a girlfriend, check this shit out!', like that for example. Thirdly he probably uses drugs –"

"_Drugs?_" Razer asked. Now this was getting out of hand. He was reaching for stuff from the bottom of the barrel.

"Yeah. See those dark circles under his eyes? They're probably effects from drugs, if he takes 'em."

"Or they could be _bags _from not _sleeping,_" she scowled, "Or fading black eyes."

The 14-year-old threw his arms down to his sides and cut to the point that he was trying to hide. Time to show her the hand he was holding – knowledge. Tae-Yang went to his school and was in his health class. He knew him more than Razer realised. He sighed, "He's sex-obsessed."

"And you're _not?_"

"I use sex as a joke!" he remarked, "And fine, I wank, what guy doesn't? But I'm not _obsessed _with it!"

"First of all, I did _not _need to know _that… _And secondly, how would you know?!" she countered, throwing her things inside, walking towards him. She stuck her thumbs inside her belt and watched as his eyebrows furrowed slightly, before going back to normal. As for her, well, she was quite angry.

Yes, child… Devil growled, Harness your anger. He is trying to hold you back, just like your Father. Let the anger grow.

"Raze, he goes to my school. We're in a class together, and _all _he talks about to his mates is finding a couple of chicks, getting them so drunk that they can't see, and nailing them repeatedly. I might _pretend _that I'm not listening in the change rooms as I'm putting my school shoes back on, but I hear pretty much every word. And you're my friend, I don't want you to go to someone like that when we both know you can do better."

"You're just jealous of him!" she snapped, "You're just jealous that _all _the girls like him whilst _no one _likes _you!_"

With that said and done, she turned back to her room and slammed the door behind her. The force of it caused some wind, blowing the Korean's hair and clothing around a little. He simply stared at where she had been and blinked repeatedly, confused and shocked. Weren't they past the teasing game? They hadn't yelled at each other for the two whole months that passed. Not one fight or taunt or nothing since the 9th of March, his birthday.

Weren't they friends now? He was only looking out for her. He _knew _what he had said was correct, he wasn't lying (for once). Hell, last week, he even heard Tae-Yang mention _her _in their 'idea', which worried him greatly. And as her friend, it was now _his job _to look out for her. He didn't say anything more, but if she was mentioned again, he would most probably attack him.

…But why would he attack him? Because she's his friend, right?

Seeing her upset and angry… The yelling… Why did it hurt so much?

And more importantly, why did it _mean _so much?

* * *

_Who does he think he is? _she snapped. She was trying to read, but to no avail. The words would blur together in meaningless formations, leaving her with nothing but more frustration and more anger directed at the 14-year-old. Her hands clenched around the firm surface of the English novel, nails digging in mercilessly. Her breathing was still flared and erratic from yelling at the boy standing outside her door.

Maybe she was wrong in becoming his friend. Maybe she was wrong in listening to his tales, in giving him support through dark times, in laughing with him. Maybe this was some type of sick game conjured up by some deity, something in her mind. Maybe they were toying with her mind, giving her what she classified as the type of male friend she wanted deep down – fun, caring, reliable.

Perhaps she was dead, and this was some type of strange fantasy. But in heaven, isn't there supposed to be nothing but happy endings? Nothing but sweet smiles, honest happiness, lukewarm love, firm friendships and everything you ever wanted? There weren't supposed to be any harsh words or bumps in the road. It was supposed to be smooth sailing. No squall or cloud to hinder things. No screams or tears. Nothing negative.

Your mind truly is wandering, mortal.

Devil's crooning words made her flinch. She closed her eyes, able to hear the entity clearer and visually see her.

You are alive, and he said everything. You did not dream anything. Do not let him get away with those inconsiderate and manipulative words, she hissed, a cruel grin on her pale face. A clawed hand came into view, originally open, fingers spread wide. In an instant, her hand clenched into a tight fist, You are not to be walked on anymore, am I correct? You said so yourself… The weak, _pathetic _you is supposedly 'gone', no? I fail to see such a thing.

Her eyebrows furrowed, _Violence, as much as I would like it to be in this situation, is not the answer._

That is only because you have not gone through every other avenue and failed. Let me save you a lot of time and tell you right now that violence _is _the answer. It solves every problem more efficiently than any equation. It stops people more effectively than a wall. It truly is the way to go. Any difficulty you come across will be smitten below your fist.

Oh, but wait… You are too fragile, yes? She sneered, You are not even thirteen yet. Another month to go. Even so, once May passes into June, although you will grow a year older, you will not get any stronger. Let me come out and pave the way for you. Let me come out and teach every pathetic soul a lesson – you are _not _to be trifled with. You… _and I… _are a force of nature.

_I am the human, and you are my nightmare, _Razer growled, closing up her book.

Her blood red eyes narrowed, and her white fangs gleamed, I am the Queen, and you are my pawn.

She shivered, _I am not your pawn. I am not your weapon, your vessel, to be manipulated by as you see fit._

Oh, but you _are _my vessel, monster… My _shell,_she laughed, her voice echoing through Athane's mind, even as her eyes opened forcefully, Where as you will one day perish to time… I will continue on. The thought of me is _eternal_.

She dropped the novel immediately, one of her hand shooting up to her throat. It felt tight, as though someone was choking her. She was well acquainted with the feeling, despite having been without it for ten whole months now. She narrowed her eyes, trying to cope with the pain, and attempted to regulate her shallow breathing to either loosen up her throat, or relax. What was happening?

She suddenly stood, something that was beyond her control. Further perplexed, her body began to walk to the door at its own accord. The hand that was formerly at her throat dropped to her side, and the panicked expression was replaced with a calm one. Inside, however, she was still stressed and confused. It was as though someone else was controlling her body.

Oh, someone else _is _controlling your body, mortal… _Me._

_Where are you taking me?_

Outside.

Devil, through Razer, opened the door and slammed it shut behind her. She began to head towards the dojang's exit, inwardly chuckling, though on the outside, she fought hard to maintain a calm, cool and collected disposition.

Hwoarang, who had been playing some video games to pass the time, leapt out of his seat and dropped the control, not even caring to pause the game. He ran a shaky hand through his red hair and stammered, "Listen, Raze, about before –"

"Save it."

He froze. If she was being so firm with him, then she must be infuriated.

In actual fact, inside, she was screaming for help. Devil was speaking for her.

The Korean shuffled back and nodded slightly, returning to his game, "Okay…"

Passing through the training area, she saw Baek, who was getting the place ready for the next lesson. At the sound of her entering, he spoke to her over his shoulder, "Oh, ready for training already? I didn't realise you were that eager."

"I am going outside for a long walk."

"Why?"

"I… need time to think."

"Sure, just make sure you get back before dark."

The front door closed quietly. She was forced to turn right and feverishly searched for a secluded place.

* * *

She wasn't sure how long or how far she had been walking, but it felt like an eternity. Control was not released. If anything, the phantom grip simply tightened. The more Razer fought it, the harder it was to even remain conscious. The last thing she wanted was to become unconscious in a time such as this. Where would she end up? What would happen?

Devil had taken her host for a long wander. A wicked sneer was on her visage, as slowly but surely, she gained control of her host. Almost everything was in her control now, even as Razer again attempted to stop, but to no avail. Just a little further, just over there. There, she would be free. There, she could spread her wings for the first time in months, and fly. There, after transformation, she would be able to do whatever she wanted.

Sleep, mortal, she hissed, feeling the last wisps of control wither away, Sleep.

* * *

_To: Hwoarang__  
From: Hwoarang  
Subject: Rant_

_Nothing like a little rant to yourself to make you feel a little better. Baek always told me to express my feelings, because then I'd feel better. Well, I don't want to talk to him. I don't want to shred the shit out of my guitar. I don't want to 'write a song' as he's suggested before. Fuck poetry. And, for once, I don't want to train until I collapse and pass out. _

_That in itself scares me._

_I'll just talk to myself. I'll watch the letters appear on the screen before me, making (somehow) articulate sentences. I'm putting all of my current thoughts into this email, and even though I'm gonna send it back to myself, I'll still have let it out. And that's what I __really__ need at the moment. So, Hwoarang Maeng… care to listen to Hwoarang Doo San's story? Do you want to hear what you've become by trying to better yourself?_

_Well… people often talk of two-faces. _

'_That two-faced bitch!', 'he's two-faced', 'they might seem sympathetic but behind your back, they're enjoying your demise', 'the snake with two heads'… you know. All that type of stuff. Though I fail to see why I bothered putting in that last example. Maybe because it's a cool analogy-thing and I'm trying to keep a happy attitude to this situation._

_I'm not two-faced. At least, not to those who are inside my good books, especially those who are closest._

_So like, pretend my heart's an object I hold. It's in my arms, and we're in the direct centre of this massive fort. There are many walls surrounding us – layers upon layers upon layers. I've got monitors everywhere, like thousands of eyes. I can see everything that's going on around me, and how I respond to it is carefully planned. What I have left of Dad and Mum, be it the goggles or the few memories, are in constant contact with us. I don't want them to go away. Baek's standing behind me, watching the world with me in silence._

_It's kinda lonely here, y'know? So a few layers into it I let some people in – Shin Min, Changmin, and Raze. My friends. Or rather, my acquaintance, the other acquaintance, and my friend. They're all pretty cool people to hang with. And as my… 'friends', I look out for them. That's what friends are for. You look out for one another and protect one another where you can. Changmin and that bully from the other school? Taken care of. Shin Min and his stalking ex-girlfriend? Taken care of._

_Razer and her infatuation with Tae-Yang? Under process. _

_She thinks I'm lying and stuff. Why would I lie to a __friend__ about something like that? I'm looking out for her. It's quite clear she's interested, so I want to guide her, y'know? Just warn her. If she wants to still go for him then alright, fine, go for him, I don't really care. Just remember that I'll be here if ya need me. But you see, I didn't even get the chance to say that. She just… yelled at me._

_More importantly, why does it hurt so much? Shin Min and Changmin have yelled at me before. It rolled off my back, like water sliding down a duck's… back. Or, I'd argue. I did retaliate, but I didn't want to argue about this. I felt… bad. I felt even __worse__ after she yelled at me. It's too strong to just feel bad about yelling at/being yelled at by a friend. I've only had this feeling a few times before, and that was when I was laughed or sneered at by some random girl that I __liked__. Now __there's__ a worry. _

_Then there's the poker faces. This… weird website defines it as 'an impassive facial expression cultivated to prevent other players from determining whether one's actions in the game are the result of a quality hand, or of bluffing'. This online dictionary defines it as 'any similar expression used to prevent giving away one's motives, feelings or situation.'_

_I've got a poker face set up here. Not only do I want to take care of the only friend I have, but… I don't __want__ her to go to him. He's a fucking prick! If she knew what he was __really__ like, then she wouldn't go anywhere __near__ him. Besides, she's too good for him. He deserves some whore who gets pregnant every five seconds by twenty different guys. She deserves someone who will look after her. She __needs__ someone who will look after her. Fine, I dunno her story, but she's fragile. You can __see__ it. And if she goes to Tae-Yang, then she'll be broken even further. And as a friend, I don't want that to happen._

_An underlying motive, though… I dunno, really. I just don't want to see her hurt I guess. But why? I don't know. She's my friend? Talk about stating the obvious. Okay well, if I don't want her to go to Tae-Yang, then who do I want her to go to? I mean I'm sure there's __some__ good stuff about Tae-Yang but… am I just going to find something bad in __every__ guy she likes? Until there's no one left or something? Or until… she ends up with me?_

_Do I like her? Mm… I'm not so sure myself. But I do feel something. I do care._

_Maybe she's closer to the centre of the fort than I first thought._

_I mean, fine. I want to be understood, but I'm afraid to let anyone in. I might let them in a little bit… not the whole way. And she's the same. She wants to be understood but is terrified of letting anyone in to see. So I'll wait._

_Hypothetical situation. Let's say I do like her. What makes me better than Tae-Yang? What makes me think that she deserves someone like me? I'm just as bad as him, but in different areas. He's a sex-loving narcissist who thinks that everyone on Earth has been designed to serve him somehow; and I'm a… cold person. Or I'm trying to be. Or __was__ trying to be. It's pretty obvious I'm not. Let's simplify it further and go, 'as if she'd like me anyway'. She said so herself. No one does. So why bother in the first place? I'm gonna be left to just simply… 'admire' in the background._

_Well maybe I can't pull her towards me. But I can pull her away from him. And then she'll find someone better._

_Let's keep this… poker face thing going, shall we?_

Click.

One new message.

* * *

She stared into the ripping puddle of blood, long and hard. Her lips curled into a smirk, and her eyes narrowed into slits. The chains were heavy on her thin arms, dragging the limbs downward, and sending the liquid on the tips of her claw-like fingers down south. They slowly trickled off, drop by drop, bit by bit, echoing into the mess before her.

She had done it.

Devil Razer lifted her head and chuckled. Past her large, black wings, she saw another two humans staring at her in fear. Clenching her fists, she turned to them wholly, and replaced her delight for killing with an impassive face. Don't let them know what you're about to do, because if they have any idea, they will revert to their most basic instincts – fight or flight. Given the circumstance, the individuals will fight. After all, their friend lay dead behind her.

Closer and closer now. She could smell their fear. Licking her lips, she stood a little taller. The form of her host, although small and thin, was more than capable of destruction. And as _her _vessel, she would have to do. She was satisfactory, maybe even a little more so. The power of her mind, though, would be frustrating. It was an effort to gather total control. Currently, the 12-year-old's true self remained deep within her mind, and was sound asleep.

When the child is away, the devil will come out and play.

"_**Monster!**_" the man growled, charging towards her.

Sidestepping, the man tumbled forward and fell into the body of his former friend. He leapt to his feet thereafter, blood covering his own form. Shaken by the act, he moved towards her again, noticing how she had not turned around to look at him. Taking it as an opportunity, he bawled both of his hands together into one, large, tight fist, and moved to swing it into her neck.

In the blink of an eye, Devil span around. Her hand curled around both wrists firmly, her claws cutting into the man's skin. Still maintaining a blank expression, she launched herself and her foe into the air, flying higher, and higher, and higher still. The cold wind rushed around her body, battering her hair in a multitude of annoying and distracting directions.

The man struggled against her and remained in her hold. Her blood red eyes darted towards him. Looked at him for a firm moment, directly in the eyes, and could see the realisation crawl into his mind. And at that exact moment, the _exact moment _where he _knew _he was going to die, she smirked subtly and chuckled once more, swiftly dropping him from their position hundreds of metres in the air.


	12. Out Of Place

_If it is in _normal _style, then it is speech.  
If it is in italics, then it is thought.  
If it is in __**bold,**__ then it is the individual's natural tongue.  
If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil.

* * *

_

Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to TeaC0sy and spongecake 2. Thank you for the awesomeness :3

* * *

_**Chapter Twelve: Out Of Place **_

"**Thank you, officer.**"

Hwoarang stopped twiddling his thumbs and looked to his Master immediately, "**Do they know where she is?**"

"**They're bringing her back now,**" Baek replied, placing the phone back in the receiver. He cleared his throat and came to sit next to his student, "**She got lost on the way home and ended up elsewhere. They say she's scared and dazed, but she's generally alright. I guess we need to show her around some more, or something…**" He sighed and drummed his fingers against his knee, "**What did you say to her this time that made her leave?**"

"**I didn't say anything… I didn't want her to go.**"

"**Well, what made her take a walk to calm down, then? She was clearly angry at you. What did you say to her?**"

"**I had a discussion with her about her crush on Tae-Yang. I tried telling her that he's bad for her but she didn't listen to me, yelled at me, didn't let me finish what I was saying, and stormed off into her room. I didn't want to get her angry, I was just trying to warn her. I know him, he goes to my school. He **_**is **_**bad for her. She'll get herself hurt with him, and I don't want that,**" the Korean answered. He leant back in the couch and looked up to the ceiling, twiddling his thumbs once more.

"**What makes you say that?**"

He rolled his eyes and slapped his head, "**Fragile, Baek. She's fragile. And Tae-Yang will walk all over her.**"

"**Are you sure that is not your way of saying 'I just don't like him so I'm going to play the protective friend'?**"

The statement had both truthfulness to it and falseness, as did his response, "**Yeah, I'm sure.**"

He shrugged and busied himself for the agonising minutes until the policeman arrived with the little girl.

* * *

It was good to get out and stretch my wings.

She remained mute, shaking from pain, though she made a special effort to disguise it from the policeman. A hand was lightly on her back, pushing her forward to the place she had unwillingly left. What would she say to them? How would she face them? What would they say? How would they face her?

The policeman firmly knocked on the door, his hand still on the youth's back. He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes, before refocussing his attention on the Tae Kwon Do master who opened the door and hurriedly embraced the youth. She returned it with the same strength, hearing him murmur, "Oh you silly, silly girl…"

Her arms dropped to her sides as Baek stood. Razer's eyes drifted to Hwoarang, who was standing nearby, yet far off. He was watching them both with weary and worried eyes, his hands shaking in his pockets. Little did she know, though, he was fighting off an urge to imitate Baek. He wanted to run up and hug her, and apologise profusely, even though he was right. He _wanted _to swallow his pride.

"Y… Yongseo…?" he remarked in a faint murmur, hoping, still looking at her with wide eyes. He was so caught up in his grief and nerves that he had reverted to his natural tongue, despite the fact that she didn't understand what he said.

Both the officer and the teacher heard him, and looked to him. The former was concerned, whilst the latter was surprised.

Athane looked away from him and moved into the dojang. She walked right past him and moved to her room, as quiet as a mouse, where she wanted to spend the rest of the evening in solitude. It was a traumatic evening. A very, very traumatic evening. She did _not _want to be disturbed under _any _circumstances. She was sore, tired, and just wanted to sleep off everything that had happened, and everything that she was feeling.

She thanked God that she had so much hair. She could hide her bleeding temples, from which horns had violently tore themselves from. The blood on her back was sticky, as were the little bits around her fingers, but she chose to wash them off later. She needed to get herself mentally straight first, and _then _physically fix herself up. Until then, well, she'd have to hide, she supposed.

Hwoarang just stared straight ahead of himself for a few moments, and then closed his eyes and sighed silently. Before long, his head dropped down, and he tightened his fists in his pockets, his mind alight with thoughts. He weighed up the options before nodding slightly and looking up at the two men, turning to follow after her. But as he moved, there was a silent nagging in the back of his mind – in _all seriousness, _why was he bothering?

She was about to enter her room when he stopped her, "Hey."

"_What?_" she asked, not turning to face him, still shaken up and testy.

"Um…" he scratched the back of his head, "Where to start…"

"You'd better hurry. I'm tired."

Something inside of him snapped. Whether it was anger or sadness, he couldn't quite tell at the moment, though he desperately wanted to. With an exasperated sigh, he growled, "Look, fine then, be bitchy and go to bed. I don't regret what I said, because I know that I was right. Just as long as you're careful. I don't make stuff like this up. If you really like him, then go tell him how you feel; but for God's sake woman, be aware, alright?"

"Yes," she remarked, holding back a snarl.

"Sleep well."

She nodded slightly and closed the door behind her, still shaking violently.

* * *

The next day couldn't have come quicker.

Hwoarang walked onto the school bus in silence. The other two dojang inhabitants were still sound asleep, so he just prepared himself and then left, hoping not to disturb either of them. He managed to make breakfast for the two of them during that time, a fact that he was happy about. He didn't want to seem selfish, so he thought that maybe this way, he could show them both that he was appreciative.

…_What the hell am I rambling on about?_

Furrowing his eyebrows, he looked up and continued to walk down the isle, noticing glances derive from various students. Some were hiding shocked faces, and others were hiding curious sneers. He furrowed his eyebrows and glanced at them all, feeling the bus move below, above and around him, "**What?**"

They said nothing and resumed their chattering. Agitated, he shook his head and took up an empty seat by himself and peeled his goggles off his head, holding them in both of his hands. The school got annoyed when he wore them, so he just didn't bother, and took them with him instead. They were just too important to him to leave behind, _anywhere. _His Dad had gotten them for him when he was really, really young. It was all he had left.

Tracing the frame, he smiled a little. At least they hadn't turned on him.

Well, how could they have? They're dead.

…_I really need to stop thinking so much, _he hissed inwardly, placing them deep in his bag. Keeping his hands in his bag, he fiddled around a bit, searching for something. Once he found it, he grinned and moved his hands along the item, searching for the ends of it. Thereafter, he resumed the tough task. He wanted to have this finished as soon as he could, so he didn't have to worry about it anymore.

* * *

"**So as you can see here – hold on a minute… Hwoarang, are you sleeping in my **_**class?!**_"

The heavy crash of books jolted the 14-year-old from his sleep. Dazed, the young fighter jumped and looked up, furiously rubbing his eyes. He opted to yell at the source of his fright, but when he realised it was his teacher, he snapped his mouth shut immediately and sat up straighter than before, picking up his pen once more in a vain attempt of thinning out her anger.

Sadly, he couldn't contain the coming yawn.

"**Principal's office,**" she hissed, "**Now.**"

Trying to stifle another yawn, he stood up, his chair screeching over the floor, and roughly threw his things into his schoolbag. Zipping it up quickly, he slung it over one shoulder and exited the room with his hysterically angry teacher in tow. He was shoved a couple of times on the way to the office, but he paid no mind. He was far too distracted on other things, such as why he had been woken up, and moping around again.

The next thing he knew, he had been forcefully seated in a large, soft, leathery chair. He took his bag off his back and sat it in his lap, cuddling it, still zoned out. He listened to his teacher drone on and on and on about having fallen asleep, and the fact that he hadn't done his homework, let alone worked on his assignment, at all; and how they should all be concerned about his grades.

The principal, however, was more worried as to why Hwoarang was so silent. He had seen him many times, and he'd be throwing accusations left, right and centre, or making up some absurd story that involved a vampire or a zombie eating his homework. This wasn't the same boy that came into his office that he had been seeing for the past few years.

Standing from his chair, the principal told the teacher to return to her class. Once she left, he stood beside Hwoarang, who was still silent, but fortunately, he was now moving. He opened up his bag and retrieved his goggles, something that the principal had seen happen only in extreme situations, such as when he almost got expelled.

But the actual situation here at school wasn't so extreme. Maybe something at home was happening that made him this way.

"**You're not yourself.**"

The Korean youth kept his mouth closed, and merely fiddled with the goggles in his hands. His fingers traced over the edges once again, and he occasionally pulled the elastic at the back. He broke his gaze with the desk, and aligned it with the glass in the goggles, looking at his own reflection sadly. No, he wasn't himself, because he had been changed a little.

The principal sighed and went back to his desk, dialling the Doo San residence, "**I'm calling your house.**"

* * *

Seemingly hours later (though really, it was only twenty minutes), both Baek and Razer arrived at Hwoarang's school. The Tae Kwon Do teacher held onto the girl's hand, leading her to the principal's office. His grip was tight, for he was concerned and slightly angry. This wasn't the first time, though, that he had been called to school.

He opened the door and bowed respectfully, before entering and taking a look at his other student. Shaking his head, he looked to the Greek and asked her softly to sit down – it wouldn't be gentlemanly to take the last remaining seat from a woman, no matter how young or old she was. He merely sat on the arm rest between them, and looked at the boy he knew so, so well, in unison with the other people in the room, "**What is going on?**"

He looked up at Baek for a moment before his eyes drifted to Razer. Thereafter, in a quick movement, he looked back at his goggles and crossed one leg over the other, shuffling about in his seat, still stroking the frame of his family's final momentum.

"**Hwoarang, you will answer me. What is going on with you?**"

Still no response. The principal tried a different approach to the 40-year-old, "**Are you angry?**"

He shook his head stiffly.

"**Are the classes… too easy for you?**"

He shook his head. What type of question was that?

"**Are you sad?**"

"…**I…**"

Speech!

"**...I don't know. I think I am.**"

Baek furrowed his eyebrows. A depressed child? "**Why are you sad?**"

He said nothing again, glancing at the two visitors, his gaze lingering on Athane for a little while longer, before looking at his goggles. He shrugged, though he knew full well why he wasn't feeling one hundred percent. His mood just slid down continuously since his friend ran away, again. What the fuck did he do this time? Honest to God, he was only warning her. He _did not want her to go, _and he _did not _want to hurt her.

_You're really caring, aren't you? _He thought to himself, _Normally you wouldn't think twice about stuff like this._

"**Hwoarang…**"

_Right, that's it. You like her. You can't _not _like her if you're acting like a fucking moping douche because of her._

Both men noticed his fists clench.

_But you can't like her. She doesn't like you. She likes Tae-Yang. Tae-Yang is better than you. He's smart and strong and fun and talkative and has a good fashion sense and is a better fighter and would actually be able to look after her if he put his fucking mind to it and stopped wanting any woman for the fricken trophy sex reasons –_

He looked down further and bit his lip. He placed his goggles back into his backpack and zipped it up, thereafter resting his head on it. He closed his eyes and tried to even out his breathing, before speaking to Baek, "**I wanna go home.**"

Doo San looked to the principal, who nodded silently and said, "**He can't work like this. Take him home, let him get a good night's sleep. Try and sort out what's wrong, because it's seriously affecting him at school. I don't know about outside of school, but at school, it is. It's out of place. Have a good day.**"

The three of them left in silence.

* * *

_Gotta… try… and… like… someone… else… after… doing… this… stupid… assignment._

Those eleven words constantly ran through the 14-year-old's head, even two weeks after the small breakdown at school. He had been purposely avoiding his company, and simply locked himself up in his _room, _for once, doing his homework, working on his surprise, and sleeping. He occasionally came out for food, but automatically went back to his room thereafter.

Even Razer noticed, as well as her unwanted parasite. And as a consequence, she felt miserable too.

Merely days away from her birthday, and her only friend didn't want to talk to her. She was over the whole ordeal, so why couldn't he be over it too? Did he seriously feel that bad? Did she make him feel that bad that he had to isolate himself again…?

Selfish, Devil growled.

She ignored the devil within and resumed playing one of his games. She had learnt, in his absence, how to play that game that he got for his birthday, and had managed to get a world further than he had been previously. She had nothing else to do, and she had read everything Baek had offered her, not to mention furthering her education by herself on the computer.

The door creaked open, and shuffled footsteps soon sounded, along with a tired yawn. The footsteps stopped. Razer looked into the television, seeing Hwoarang's reflection. He was slouched over, wore a half-open white shirt, had cargo pants on, and of course, his beloved goggles. After a few moments, his tired voice rose from his throat, "…What are you doing?"

"Playing your game."

"…Yeah but why?"

"I am bored. There is nothing to do."

"Mmm."

She paused the game, hearing him hobble over towards the fridge. The jingling of the bell magnet indicated that it had just been opened, and she chose this opportunity to clear her throat, look back at her friend and speak, "Is there a particular reason why you are shutting everyone out? Have I done something wrong?"

"Why do you always assume that _you've _done something wrong?"

"F-force of habit."

"Well you haven't. I've just been super busy with my assignments. Can't fucking get through them," an enthusiastic and generous sip of coke from the bottle coolly slid down his throat, waking him up slightly, "I've been at it for weeks, I just can't do it. That's all. Nothing to do with you."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah really."

"No way."

"Yes way," He closed the fridge door and started to move towards his room, "And I'm gonna go back and work on that stuff some more now, so… see ya."

"Alright."

He went to close his bedroom door, but was stopped. Turning, he saw that she had followed him. Perplexed and slightly alarmed, he raised an eyebrow, contemplating whether to block her out or let her in. Eventually deciding on the latter, he moved aside and closed the door behind him, flicking another light on in the otherwise dark room, "What?"

"If you're struggling with this assignment, then why don't you let either me or Baek assist you?"

"Because I don't want to be trouble."

She rolled her eyes and sat in his chair, spinning it around so that it faced the table once more. Peering at the work, she realised it was in Hangul, and then looked over her shoulder, "Read this to me."

"What?"

"Read the question to me, and your answer."

"But its geography."

"Geography is easy."

"It's an essay."

"Essays are easy."

He gave up and sat on his bed, snatching the paper from her hand, and began to translate.

* * *

_This is getting out of hand now. Al this 'feelings' bullshit is out of place in my life. And it's stupid._

"So there we go. Your assignment is now finished," Razer remarked, closing her friend's book.

He blinked and nodded, "Yeah… Thanks."

"Now, spend time with your friend. Wanna play soccer or something?"

"Uh… No."

She frowned, "Why?"

"I have another… assignment… to do."

"Well, bring it out and we'll work on it together."

"This one's personal."

"Oh… okay."

"I'll work on it later, though," he remarked, sitting up and stretching, "It's time for training anyway."

To his dismay, he stuck his hand out towards hers, hoping to help her up.

What surprised him even more is, she took it, however briefly, and left the room, stating that she'll go get changed.

_Right, throw yourself into training, immediately. Make your body hurt, if only to distract yourself._

It was as he slipped his dobuk shirt on did he realise something else. He whined out loud.

…_Fucking Tae-Yang's gonna be there._


	13. I’ll Be There For You…

_If it is in _normal _style, then it is speech.  
If it is in italics, then it is thought.  
If it is in __**bold,**__ then it is the individual's natural tongue.  
If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil.

* * *

_

_**Chapter Thirteen: I'll Be There For You… **_

He turned the item around in his hand continuously, making sure that no flaws were evident. It was clear that his student had worked very hard on the item for the last two months, and used assignments as an excuse to cover up what he was doing. It was only now did Baek get to see the finished product, and give it the once over, before the slumbering girl in the room next to them woke up.

"**It's fine?**" Hwoarang asked nervously. He chewed on a nail, trying to vent it silently through that means.

After giving it one more look, Baek nodded, "**Good job, kid.**"

The youth sighed, relieved, "**Thank God.**"

He moved the card in the bag out of the way, placing the item back in it, thereafter handing it back over with a small, congratulatory smile. He straightened himself up and picked up the chocolate box he had in his hand, before smirking devilishly, teeth in view. Opening the door, he crept out, along with the younger Korean, and spoke in a hushed whisper as they migrated to the bedroom a few metres away, "**Now… Let's wake her up.**"

The 40-year-old lightly pushed the bedroom door open, hearing it creak uninvitingly and annoyingly. He tip-toed inside, his accomplice following closely, until they were both hovering over her sleeping form. She was facing towards the wall, was half curled up (as always, with the blankets somewhat coiled around her form, despite the heat), and her was hair splayed in every direction – a true bed head. Looking to Hwoarang one last time and nodding slightly, he gently touched her shoulder and shook it, trying to wake her slowly, without frightening her, "Hey."

It surprisingly worked rather quickly. Soon enough, her eyes fluttered open, and Razer rolled over, rubbing them, tired and a tad confused. Covering her mouth to yawn rather loudly and ungracefully, she looked between them both, her expression easily reading in a playful and slightly annoyed fashion, 'what is the big deal? I was sleeping'. She was unaware that she was doing that, though, but regardless, the pair found the look rather amusing.

Both Koreans pulled out their gifts from behind them and said in complete unison, "Happy birthday."

She smiled at them both and sleepily said, whilst stretching an arm behind her head, "Thank you."

The nearest male offered her his straightforward gift. With a smile and a simple shrug as she took it from his hands gently, Baek said, "I didn't really know what to get you, so I got you something that I knew you would like no matter what."

As she eyed the new chocolate box and placed it on the table next to her, she grinned, "Of course. Thanks."

Baek nodded slightly and noticed Hwoarang's hesitance from the corner of his eyes. Raising his eyebrows in silent curiosity and amusement, as well as making a mental note to either ask him about the hesitance or jokingly tease him about it later; he turned away to leave and cleared his throat, stretching his arms, "I'll go make breakfast for you. We've been awake for a fair while now and we have already eaten. I will see you outside."

The Korean youth waited until his master was outside before doing anything. Scratching his cheek, he held his right arm out, the bag dangling from the tips of his fingers. He smiled slightly and a tad boyishly, watching as she took it cautiously. Her gaze dropped from him to the gift, as she slowly pulled it out of the bag, observing it as it came.

The surprised look on her face pleased him, and he couldn't help but inwardly grin.

"Wow… This is awesome… It's so soft…" she ran her hand over the clothing item, before placing it against her cheek. She looked up at her former enemy, all smiles, and she failed to notice the grin materialise on his face, "Thanks."

He moved a bit closer to her, still grinning, though trying to swallow and hide it, "You're welcome. That's the uh… 'personal assignment' I've been working on. You kept complaining about the cold around Christmas, so I thought I'd make you a scarf so that in the coming winter, you won't be so cold anymore."

"…You _made _it?"

"Yeah."

The smile grew considerably. He shrunk back slightly, worried that the smile may soon take a devilish twist, however it hurriedly disappeared when he saw her throw back the covers on the bed, stand up (but not without him noticing some cleavage from the top of her pyjamas. This surprised him. She's actually growing boobs), and wrap her slender arms around his form, still holding the item in her hand. Squeezing tightly, she smiled into his shoulder, "Thank you. That means a lot to me."

He looked down on her and wrapped his own arms around her with slight hesitance, and grinned into her hair, "You're welcome. Anyway, wanna have sex now?"

She pulled away, quirking an eyebrow, noting the mischievous, teasing look on his face, "What?"

"You're thirteen now. The consent age for sex in Korea is thirteen," he winked.

The smile returned, and she shoved him, "Quit kidding around."

Still smiling, the Korean's hand slipped into his pockets once more. His counterpart noticed the lopsided grin, along with the lightly blushing cheeks, and as a result, she inwardly quirked an eyebrow. Why would he react that way? It was just a hug, that's all. Shrugging, she decided not to think on it, and simply got out of bed, stretching yet again.

Following her out, still with the annoying, lopsided, goofy grin, Hwoarang noticed her put on the scarf anyway, despite the warm temperature. Such an act pleased him further, because it showed that she really liked and appreciated the gift. He could feel his ego inflate, and really, he didn't care. Cracking his fingers swiftly, he couldn't help but wonder what the rest of the day would hold for the two of them.

* * *

Baek's fist tapped on the door lightly, "You two, get ready for training."

The giggles on the other side rang clear. The pair had been sitting in his office, on his computer, watching various, humorous videos all day. They came out of the room, passing their teacher, relaying quotes from these videos to one another. Hwoarang tried to stifle his giggles, but still, another quote erupted from his mouth, "'How did you find my village?! Pleeeease, stoooop talkiiiing!'"

Razer laughed, covering her mouth, before slinking into her room to change. The younger Korean remained outside, now managing to contain his laughter, and stretched a little. He started to move to his room, but was stopped by his mentor's chuckling voice and murmured Korean words, "**It's good to see you happy. Even if you do end up blushing like an idiot.**"

He said nothing and merely blinked, half-frozen in place, before his legs started up again. Maintaining his silence, even as he entered the room, he hurriedly changed into his dobuk, his day clothes being thrown this way and that. He rolled up his sleeves, so it got up to his elbows, and fanned himself slightly due to the heat. Damn this summer weather…

Sprinting back out, he moved into the training area of the dojang and sat in the corner, his back resting against the wall. It seemed there were other people here already, though not the entire class. There were a few guys in the centre of the room, and a smaller congregation of girls observing them from a far. Hoping to take his mind off of what Baek had said, he looked at them, his sienna eyes roaming the lengths of their bodies.

Too thin. Too thin. Chubby. Noticeably overweight. Too thin. Stick-like, and –

…Nice body.

He observed a little more. Well endowed in the chest area, a noticeable ass, long, flowing black hair, slender arms and legs that she obviously wasn't afraid to show off… Petite fingers, from what he could see here. Chubby fingers on a girl just made him shake his head. He liked holding small hands, and from there he could run his own fingers over the thinner ones of the girl. In his dreams.

The girl stopped looking at the boys and turned to her friends, laughing. Hwoarang blinked rapidly for a moment, his breath caught in his throat. She was really pretty. _Really _pretty. A heart-shaped face, deep brown eyes, full lips, lovely skin… _Damn_. He rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes, now listening to the sound of her voice.

"**I hope we don't do anything too hard today,**" she said, her voice gentle.

"**I know what you mean, Hyori,**" one of her friends remarked.

Hyori Kwon. Of course. The apple of every guy's eye at his school. She was fifteen, in the grade above him, smart, athletic –

_And she just might be the person to keep my mind off my little infatuation with my best friend, _he concluded to himself.

Sadly, the subject of his thoughts wondered by him, heading straight to the door, where Baek stood. He watched silently, noticing that Athane was trying to keep a happy look from her face. They exchanged a few words, a few laughs, and so on, before his teacher stood a little taller and opened the door, welcoming another student into his humble dojang.

Hwoarang narrowed his eyes.

_Tae-Yang._

He growled under his breath.

_And there she goes again, acting like a fool._

He silently sighed, knowing that one day, her world would be shattered; and refocussed his attention to Hyori, looking at her from the corner of his eyes. She continued chatting away, flipping her hair and so on in a fashion that was (surprisingly) not annoying in the slightest. She was really graceful, a quality that was hard to find in an Asian girl, in his opinion. Most acted sickeningly cute, something he despised. It was nice to see a change.

Soon enough, all students got into their appropriate lines, bowing respectfully to Baek. Training was about to start.

* * *

As soon as training seemingly began, it ended, much to the disappointment of the enthusiastic children. Some left immediately, whilst others remained behind for a while, talking to their fellow students, and occasionally their master. Everyone had paired off into their normal groups, chatting at a million miles an hour, or waiting at the door for their parent's car to show up.

Razer stood beside Tae-Yang, hands behind her back, hiding a girlish smile. He showed no interest in speaking with her, and was tapping his fingers against his duffle bag, waiting for his lift. Still, this did not deter her, as she cleared her throat and turned wholly to look at him, her voice a little shaky, "So, how is school going?"

"School is fine," he remarked blankly, still struggling with his English, "Why you no go to a school?"

"I learn online. Baek helps me," she replied.

He nodded slightly, still gazing out the open door.

She nodded a little too, though out of nervousness. Her green eyes roamed the area in front of her, noticing that Hwoarang was returning from the living part of the dojang with a bottle of water. She caught his gaze for a moment, smiling, before looking back to Tae-Yang, who was still fidgeting about. He appeared really eager to get home.

Well after the other students had left, a final car pulled up. It was a sleek red, shining in the setting sun. To her surprise, Tae-Yang moved to leave, heading towards that car. Wasn't the car he normally went in silver? What's with the change? And the _type_ of car certainly didn't look the same. But what would she know? Cars weren't her thing.

"See you next week," she said to him, smiling, watching him go.

"Yeah," a short reply, as always.

Her smile faded as a female strolled out of the car, running her fingers through her short, messy bob-cut. An abundance of necklaces, all of various colours, styles and lengths hung carelessly around her neck, clashing against one another, creating noise as she moved. The woman waited for Tae-Yang to approach, pulling up the fallen strap of her tank top from underneath her denim jacket. She smiled, throwing her arms around the boy, "**Sorry I was late hun, I got lost. The stupid GPS didn't work for some reason.**"

He straightened up a little, shrugged and tucked some of her black hair behind her ear, "**Forget it.**"

Razer's stomach dropped to the floor as he kissed her. She wanted to turn away, but her eyes were glued to them. His muscly hand moved to her thigh, slowly sliding up her short skirt. The girl pulled out of the kiss and slapped his hand away, annoyance on her face. Her full, red lips were in a pout, hoping to put some type of guilt into his system, or to guide his eyes away from her chest, but to no avail. He shrugged again and moved to go to the passenger's seat, ready to leave.

As they drove away, the Greek closed the door quietly and shut her eyes, resting her forehead against the door.

Fool.

_Don't._

You wanted to be a part of _that? _You wanted to be in the poor girl's shoes, subjecting yourself to such embarrassment? Devil chuckled, Of course you would. I myself have no idea why, but indeed, for a fair while, you wished yourself to be that person in that situation. And even now, being on the outside of the relationship, looking in… you envy her. And to make matters worse, you hurt your best friend… because he was _right._

Her head snapped up at the realisation, and her eyes opened. Hwoarang… He was right. He had been right the whole time. He wasn't being mean, he wasn't telling her off or anything like that. He was _warning _her, and she just ignored him and accused him of being jealous and snobby and mean and –

"_He's probably got a girlfriend anyway, sorry to say."_

The conversation slowly repeated in her mind, and as it did, Devil emphasised every relevant point with glee. One of her fists clenched slightly as she sighed, feeling incredibly stupid, and indeed feeling the first signs of heartbreak. For a moment, she felt like she was in some cheesy romance novel; but this was actually real. It wasn't scripted, it wasn't a plot that had been carefully thought out with the one ending… It was real.

Happy birthday, Athane. I hope you're enjoying this… reality 'injection'.

External noise, like the rustle of clothing, caught her attention. The 13-year-old lifted her head and looked over her shoulder, seeing Hwoarang stand there in the middle of the training area, his bare feet on the timber floors, arms by his sides, looking directly at her. There was complete silence, aside from Baek talking on the phone (rather loudly) outside, and aside from their breathing. She turned her head away sadly and sighed, whilst he remained where he was, slight unhappiness on his own visage. He didn't like seeing her hurt.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"It was best that you found out on your own," he replied quietly.

Razer nodded slightly, finally finding the strength to push herself off the door. Suppressing her current feelings, she walked away, debating internally on what to do to distract her from her thoughts. Maybe she could read a book or something. That might help take her mind off of it for a while. Maybe even for the rest of the night, hopefully.

As she walked by the Korean, his hand lightly enclosed around her forearm, stopping her in her tracks. He spoke quietly, still looking ahead of him, "You don't need him, and he doesn't need you. Stuff like this happens to everyone everyday, yeah? It'll go away, just you wait and see. Trust me, you can do a lot better than that asshole."

With a heavy sigh, she rested her head on his shoulder, simply staring into space. In turn, he pulled her closer towards him, now able to put both his arms around her in a comforting hug. He wasn't very sure whether this would help whatever grief she was feeling, but he was determined to try. He understood how she felt, though. It wasn't the first time he liked someone.

She eventually responded to his embrace, snaking her own arms around his form, loosely holding him. He inwardly grinned, and patted her back, still staring at the door, where she had been previously, murmuring softly, "**He doesn't know what he's missing out on.**"

Looking up, not having heard his statement, she said, "What?"

"I… said that I'll always be here for you, yeah?"

"Yeah… Thank you."

"I mean it."

She paused, before looking up at him with a smile, "I know."

He smiled too.


	14. …Till My Heart Is Black And Blue

_If it is in _normal _style, then it is speech.  
If it is in italics, then it is thought.  
If it is in __**bold,**__ then it is the individual's natural tongue.  
If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil.

* * *

_

_**Chapter Fourteen: …Till My Heart Is Black And Blue **_

_God dammit._

He fiddled about with the guitar strings for a moment, making sure they were still nice and tight. It had been a while since he played, and right now, he was home alone again. This happily constituted to playing freely, without anyone hearing him. He could let out his own pain without being a burden to anyone around him, through the strings.

Two months had passed since her birthday.

Despite the hurtful event that had occurred to her on that day, which left not only her heart black and blue, but his as well; she still liked Tae-Yang, much to his annoyance. From her side of the lines, she'd look at him. In the final row, on the furthest side of the room, right beside the guy he loathed so much; he'd watch, holding back a sigh. Didn't she learn anything by what she had seen? Was she still hopeful or something? What had to happen before she gave up and moved on? It was frustrating and depressing just _thinking _about it, let alone seeing her still interact with him like before.

_How much longer?_

Hwoarang leant over, his thumb flicking the switch of his small amplifier. The initial static hum filled his room for a moment, before it fizzled out, leaving nothing. Adjusting the volume with one hand, he slid his fingers along the strings from the other hand, getting them into position. The movement created a dull, scratching sound again. He leant to his right side, where his CD player and speakers were located, and stabbed the power button with his thumb.

A year had gone by when they first met.

A cliché thing to think, but it didn't feel that long. A year was a long time in the eyes of a young one. The days stretched on for a longer period of time, five minutes in a class felt like an hour… and so on and so forth. It felt more like four months or so. Needless to say, during the time period, he had fun. What _wasn't _fun at the moment was this situation.

The piano's soft, desolate sound resonated through the speakers, and was eventually overtaken by the pounding drums and screaming guitar – the latter both on the record and in real life. And then the rough vocals came, topping off the sad song, invoking his own voice to crawl from the hole it always hid in. His voice worked in his mother tongue, but his mind reflected on the lyrics in English.

_Do you know why the rain comes?  
It's because someone is praying for all your sadness to be erased to comfort you._

* * *

"If we are done here," Razer inquired, "then why do we not head back home? It may rain or something."

She continued to look up to Baek, her eyes holding many inquisitive questions. They had gone shopping for more dojang equipment, such as boards to kick, a few more shin guards, and so on and so forth. All had been stored into the trunk and backseats of the teacher's car, and both were simply hanging out outside of the vehicle, tired.

The Korean tilted his head slightly and smiled, "I like to give Hwoarang some alone time whenever I go out."

"Any particular reason?"

"So he can… express himself through his music."

"Music?"

"He plays guitar," Baek remarked, looking up at the blue sky, "He's actually quite good. Hwoarang is very musical, but he doesn't like showing it. He does music as an elective subject at school, but he will never do his homework for it here. He'll always do it at school, because he's that… 'shy', I suppose, about his talent, around me. So he hides it."

She paused, taking in the information, before opening her mouth once more, "Can he sing?"

"From the snippets I've heard, yeah. Sometimes I come home too early from grocery shopping or from a business trip, and I would be able to hear him from outside. But all noise from inside the dojang ceases the moment he hears the car pull up, or when he hears my key go into the lock. He's that paranoid."

"He should not hide his gift."

"Mm," Baek remarked, nodding, looking to the Greek girl, "He shouldn't hide it at all."

* * *

His fingers were blistered and burning by the time the other two dojang inhabitants showed up. He swallowed the pain, however, and opened the door with a casual greeting, bowing slightly, and stepping out, helping the struggling girl with the heavy equipment. She appeared to be quite trained since early this morning, and he had noted this fact, wondering what the reasons could have been.

Once everything had been dumped into the back corner, Baek looked to his two students with a smile of appraisal, "Thanks you two. Now, what do you say to getting out of this damn place for a while? Maybe to a park or something. We can bike ride around. And we can have lunch there, and then come back around dinner time and pig out on junk food."

Hwoarang, liking the junk food part of the bargain, grinned and nodded a little, "I like that idea."

Razer rubbed her wrist. It was still a little sore from moving everything, "So do I."

"Then it's settled," Doo San smiled.

* * *

"**Hwoarang. Helmet.**"

"**But it screws up my hair!**"

"**Unless you want a screwed up head as well, I advise you put on your helmet.**"

Rolling his eyes, the 14-year-old shoved the bulky item upon his head, thereafter looking at his master, bored.

"**Clip it up too.**"

"**It'll pinch my throat!**"

"**Do it!**"

He sighed and did as he was asked, wincing when he indeed felt the pinch momentarily. Thereafter, he turned, seeing his best friend do likewise, before taking off down the concrete track. Feeling like a dork for having the 'unnecessary' equipment on, he took off after her, pushing down on the pedals, "Razer, wait up!"

She slowed her pedalling until he was comfortably riding by her side, "What?"

Quickly looking over his shoulder, hands still firmly gripping the handlebars, he spoke, "Let's race!"

"Alright. Where to?"

Baek interfered, riding past them, "Last one to the next available and desolate picnic table has to carry the basket, blanket and bags back to the car…" He cleared his throat, still pedalling with difficulty. He was carrying all of those items at the moment, and it was taking its toll, "And rest assured… it won't be me!"

"You're on, Baek!" Hwoarang growled, fire lighting up within his eyes. He took off, and with ease, managed to overtake his master. Razer eventually joined him quickly, a small smile on her visage as she steadily rode next to him.

The tyres slowly grinded over the concrete and thin twigs, snapping in half upon impact. Leaves coated the sides of the paths, which fel from the canopy of trees decorating either side. Their branches caved inwards, creating a tunnel-like effect, the sun dispersed on the ground in patches and spots. The pair knew that their master wouldn't win, simply because the weight he was currently carrying would slow him down.

Soon enough, they had lost their master. They travelled over the hills and far away, leaving the two of them alone. Silence filled the air. Not even the fauna (wherever they were) in the area dared to chirp or squeak; nor did the leaves rustle in the gentle wind. It was as though sound had been completely muted in the world, leaving only the visuals.

The Korean peeked at her from the corner of his sienna eyes. Her hair was tied pack in a low plait, the end of which was shorter than usual due to her haircut a few days ago. He was still getting used to it. She had white sneakers on, dark blue jeans that came up to her knees, a sleeveless white shirt, and of course, the scarf he made; however it was tied around her wrist. It was way too hot to wear that today. He had noticed the sun's effects on her, for there was some sweat visible on her arms.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked, pedalling steadily.

He refocussed his attention on the turning pathway, manoeuvring the handlebars to make the turn, "Nothing."

"You seem quite distracted."

"I'm not!" he answered cheerily, sitting a little taller in his seat, scratching the back of his head with one hand, "What makes you think I a-…" He slowed down a bit and turned to look at her, deciding this would be a good time to make conversation. When he did though, his eyes were drawn to somewhere other than her face, and he tried to look away, growling at himself, but failed.

Perplexed by his sudden silence and his sudden slow in pedalling, Razer stopped entirely, one foot on the ground, and looked over her shoulder. She looked at him for a moment before raising an eyebrow and speaking, "What?"

"Um… Nice bra strap."

Her head snapped to her arm. Blushing, she pulled it back up, "Thanks."

"No problem," he sped up a little, climbing to the top of another hill.

Still blushing, she noticed that he had stopped at the top of the hill, was waiting for her, and searching for Baek. His eyes widened a little. Curious, she stopped and looked over her shoulder, wondering what was going on. She coughed slightly, ignoring the laughter that was directed at her from the devil within, "I guess we've really left him far behind…"

"Yeah," he raised his eyebrows a little before looking back at her, grinning, "I guess he's too old to compete with us."

"Possibly."

They remained where they were at the top of the hill. She was looking behind them, and he was sitting on his bike, staring into space, drumming his fingers on the handlebar, whilst thinking to himself, _Maybe I should tell her how I feel. I mean, I've done it before. It's not that hard, right? Maybe this time, as I'm rejected, I won't be laughed at._

"Tae-Yang smiled at me yesterday."

He looked up at her, "Oh… You still like him?"

"Yes."

He nodded a little, feeling something peculiar clutch at his chest. He didn't like the feeling, for it reminded him of his parents and the horrors that occurred to them, that he was forced to see with his own eyes. It was the definition of pain, and he could not imagine anything that was parallel to it, let alone stronger. It felt like his heart was being beaten black and blue. Silently breathing through it, lifting his head a little, he only just noticed that she was looking at him, "What?"

"I said, 'not as much as I used to, though'."

"How come?" he inquired, turning away, looking forward, ready to go down the hill and feel the wind rush against him. How could he have missed such a vital piece of information as that? He couldn't help but grin subtly, and to hide it, he tugged at the tip of his flipped-up collar.

The Greek also turned away, readjusting her position on the bike, standing next to him, "Because, you were right. I was wrong. I was blinded. You weren't lying or anything… You were telling the truth. You were looking out for me, because like you were saying, he's not everything he's cracked up to be. He is not who I thought he was, let alone as nice or interesting and so on, you know?"

"Yeah."

"Besides, there are better boys," she said, smiling, "Like you for example."

_What? _He thought, pausing, thereafter speaking verbally,"Me?"

"Yes. You actually care. From what I have seen of Tae-Yang, he does not. And you're very sweet, considerate, kind… You're _thoughtful. _And let's face it," she chuckled a little, jabbing him in the arm, "You're also quite nice to look at…" she scratched her cheek shyly before continuing on, "Whichever female you will eventually call special and your own… will be very lucky. You'll make her very happy."

He couldn't hide the smile. The pain eased a little. He bowed his head slightly in gratitude, "Thanks."

Turning away wholly, she leant forward, ready to go down the hill, "Let's go. I see a spare table up ahead."

She took off in a hurry, hearing her friend follow behind him. The wind rushed by her, rustling her clothing and her hair. Against her face, it felt like a burning sensation, though it was pleasant. She began to laugh when Hwoarang whizzed by her, almost losing control of the steering, thereafter claiming that it wasn't funny. He gained control once again though, managing to stabilise his previously flailing balance in the process.

As she joined his side again, she squinted, peering at the person who had magically reached the table before the two of them. Perplexed, she blinked several times. No one had cut in front of them during their conversation, and no one was coming from the other side… How did this happen? Were they invisible before or something?

"I _don't _believe it…" the Korean muttered.

"It is Baek," she murmured.

Indeed it was. The Tae Kwon Do teacher was adjusting the blanket on the table, smoothing it, making sure it was creaseless. The corners were draping over the wood aimlessly, completely still due to the absence of wind. Plastic cups were out, as were plates; all stacked on top of one another, teetering slightly. Soon enough, the man looked up, noticing his two students approach, and grinned. Despite the distance, both could still see it.

He suddenly yelled out, "I told you I wouldn't be carrying them back! Remember our deal!"

Both teenagers swore in unison – in pitch, tone, volume, speed and dynamics – and cycled towards Doo San.

* * *

It had been a tie. Both had to carry the things back when the time to leave came.

But for now, the pair were busy passing the soccer ball between one another. Baek simply watched on, sipping on his fanta soft drink occasionally. They were all talking with one another, however the teacher rarely pitched in, simply letting his two students interact friendlily. It was such a welcome change from the former battles a year ago, and he was quite pleased with how the foreigner had settled into their humble home. However, he couldn't help but wonder why she had not asked to be returned to Greece yet. As a matter of fact, she never spoke of the country, let alone her family, and this concerned him.

Something he liked dearly was knowledge. He had always been interested in foreign places, which was why he jumped at the opportunity to travel to Japan in the second King Of Iron Fist Tournament. He had been to American briefly with his tournament friend, Michelle Chang; and even saw a little of Canada with her. He liked to learn, and he had been tempted numerous times to ask what it was like in Greece, if only to gather information on the place itself. But to think that she never once spoke of her _family… _She is still only a child. She should've at least missed her parents and wondered how they were. But such reminiscence, such a thought appeared to have never come across her face. Not even simple or trivial descriptions.

And he wanted to know why.

He looked away from the pair and looked up to the sky, a forlorn look on his face. Hwoarang did not relinquish information on his parents for so, so long. Did he have to wait this long for Razer too? Surely if there was a problem, something would have been done about it back home… And if there was a problem, then she could confide in him. He knew that she understood this, but wondered if she would ever implement it. His Korean student held it in for such a long period of times because he did not want the nightmarish memories to rise again, especially whilst they were so scarily fresh. But in return, Doo San gave Hwoarang comfort, and a Father figure. He taught him, and continued to teach him about life. He told him about his own misfortunes, like the accidental murder of his Father by his own hands and feet, during a sparring session.

They together had made a small family. The Father and the son. They knew they weren't truly blood bonded, but they reinforced the connection nonetheless and kept it sacred. When would the newest addition to their household join their family, and reinforce her connections with them? Was she unsure of them? Was she unwilling? Was she afraid?

"I did _not _think you would be able to do that…"

The girl's voice snapped him back to reality. He looked back to the pair, quirking an eyebrow. His 'son' had his hands on his hips firmly and was breathing a little hard, as though he had just done some type of physical activity. His chin was high, and a small smirk was on his face, "What, you want me to do it again or something? 'Cause I can."

"Such a show off," Razer remarked, folding her arms across her stomach, "Go on then. Impress me."

That sounded like a challenge. Baek knew he liked challenges.

The 14-year-old nodded, stretching his arms a little, before taking a step back, away from her. As he did, he launches himself into a back flip, something his master was surprised to see. His strong arms supported him for the few fleeting moments his top half was facing down, before they were in the air too. The small gesture had his form spin in the air, and before long, he landed on his feet, smirk still evident. It expanded slightly when she cheered.

Doo San interjected, "Such a show off indeed, but when did you learn to do that?"

Hwoarang shrugged, "Meh, playing around at school mainly."

"I'm impressed."

He stretched his arms back over his head, causing his black shirt to rise, "It's amazing what you can learn when you're bored."

"You look like a cheerleader."

He grinned and stuck his tongue out at his master, before addressing said tongue to Razer in a teasing fashion, for she had giggled at the man's statement.

The 40-year-old lifted the can to his lips, hiding a smile behind it as he sipped. He watched the girl's gaze drop towards the newly showing skin, before she looked away hurriedly, her cheeks turning a light tinge of red. He almost choked trying to hold in his laughter, as he thought, _This is just too adorable. I know he likes her and thinks it is hopeless, but he has another thing coming._

They went back to kicking the ball around for a while. Before long, another pair of people came walking down the concrete pathway, only from the opposite direction in which they walked. He watched them come, and then realised that it was Tae-Yang and a young woman. He bowed his head in silent greeting, before returning his attention to his two students.

It seemed that someone else had noticed their presence. He watched as the Greek waved at him (not her) shyly, before gravitating towards him. She was oblivious to the snickering glare of Tae-Yang's accomplice, the hurtful words that the man was saying about her (such as "lovesick puppy… needs to know when to quit"), and Hwoarang's frustrated stare.

They spoke for a while. Baek continued to sip on his fanta, inwardly shaking his head at the situation. There was a ridiculous amount of prissy, insulting murmurs coming from the woman… which was fair enough, to an extent. Razer shouldn't approach him anymore, she knew that he had a girlfriend. Perhaps this was some twisted way to train herself to stop liking him. As for Tae-Yang himself, he was doing a ridiculous amount of muscle flexing.

The entire situation irked Hwoarang, and the teacher noticed this. He was kicking the ball around, moving it up to his knee and his chest, trying to distract himself, but it seemed he couldn't tear his eyes away from the situation. Sienna eyes were glued to them, narrowing. Baek was sure that if he was standing in front of the 14-year-old, he would be able to see the frustration boiling in them, as well as the jealousy that was swirling in the pit of his stomach.

He didn't expect him to walk over to them, though, and speak, arms firmly folded across his chest. He gritted out in a 'nice' tone, "**Don't you have something better to do than lead her on, Tae-Yang?**"

Tae-Yang smirked, "**Lead her on? I don't know what you're talking about, so move your scrawny ass along, Hwoarang.**"

"**You know exactly what I'm talking about,**" he seethed, clenching his fists in his pockets, "**Just stop it okay?**"

"**As if I had any interest in her in the first place,**" he scorned, chuckling. His eyes roamed over the girl's form, subconsciously causing her to shrink back. She was looking between them both, and occasionally looked at his girlfriend, who was laughing, "**I mean… come on… Who'd want that? She's nothing to look at, and she has the personality of a twig.**"

"**I'm struggling to find out what's so appealing about **_**you**_**. You've got a tiny brain, and it's stored in your dick rather than your head. You're a selfish user, only going out in the world to get sex, and maybe even some money from your endless array of girlfriends; because the whore clinging on your arm sure isn't the same slut I saw picking you up last training session. I guess 'beauty' is only skin deep…**" the 'placid' look on his face melted away as he spoke, and was replaced with a dark, challenging sneer. He did notice a questioning look flash across the girl's face at a part of his statement.

It seemed that the announcement had rolled off of Tae-Yang's back. He was too busy observing Razer from the corner of his eyes, who had now stepped several paces back, quite unsure of the situation. He focused his attention back on the contestant, chuckling, "**Flat. No wonder you can't get it up.**"

"**I'd rather flat than grossly oversized and **_**fake.**_"

This time, the woman spoke, raising her head. She stamped her foot down, "**You watch your mouth!**"

"**Oh my,**" Hwoarang mocked dully, pretending to be transfixed with the woman's breasts, "**Look at the silicone wobble. I am **_**so **_**turned on.**"

She growled, looked to Tae-Yang, and pointed at him, "**Why are you just standing there?! Defend my honour!**"

Tae-Yang said nothing to her, nor about her, and merely furrowed his eyebrows, "**You're stupid, kid, y'know that?**"

"**I'd rather be dumb and care about whoever I end up with rather than use every girl I ever come across like you.**"

He hissed angrily and clenched his fists, lifting them from his sides, and moved to slip into stance. Hwoarang motioned to do the same, pulling his own hands out of his pockets; slightly surprised, but glad nonetheless. He wanted nothing more than to slam his foot into his opponents jaw, and although they were evenly matched by belt, he had more skill than his opponent. Though… Tae-Yang was also older and stronger than him. So it was fairly balanced.

Baek noticed this from his distance away and called out immediately, "**Hwoarang! Tae-Yang! Stand down!**"

Both chose to ignore him. Caught up in his desires, the 14-year-old threw the first attack, sending his right leg towards his head. He couldn't wait until it connected, he honestly couldn't. But sadly, for him, it never did, for Razer interjected, parrying the blow, almost tipping him over. He quickly dropped his stance and looked to her, surprised and seemingly hurt. After all, the whole ordeal started out in trying to defend her.

"**Please,**" she said to him, frowning.

Currently being the only Greek word he knew, for she had said it enough times and told him what it meant; he nodded slightly, defeated and dejected, and walked away, picking up his soccer ball as he went. Though not physically struck by anyone, the word was enough to sting like a bruise. Carrying the novelty item in his right arm, he went towards his master, mentally preparing himself for scolding, and plastered on a not-phased face.

He sat next to him, holding the ball in his hands, looking at it. Baek eventually cleared his throat, and he looked up at him, awaiting his verbal punishment. When he did speak though, he didn't expect to hear what he heard, "**Good job, kid. Just remember that violence isn't the answer.**"

"**Mm.**" His heart still felt black and blue.

Silence.

"**Baek, can I tell you something, and you promise you won't tell anyone else?**"

"**I already know,**" he said, smiling.

He scratched his cheek, "**How do I get her to like me?**"

"**You can't 'make' someone like you. You need to give it time.**"

"**What if I build my muscles up?**" he suggested randomly, causing Baek to blink repeatedly, "**That seems to be the only advantage Tae-Yang has over me.**"

"**You can try it if you want, but I don't think it really matters.**"

"**Mmm.**"

Eventually, Tae-Yang and the woman left. Razer returned to the two of them, also having a small smile on her face, "Well, what do we do now?"

Baek stood and stretched, "I think its time to go home."

* * *

The next day crawled in slowly. Still, before long, Baek found himself with his oldest student, in the dojang, standing before him. He shook his head, confused as to how he and his Korean student came to this situation. He crossed his arms, talking slowly and lowly, "**Please, remind me… How did you trick me into this predicament, Hwoarang?**"

He stood there before his master, his body stiff, his arms by his sides, "**I didn't trick you. You agreed to do this.**"

Shrugging slowly and spreading his legs apart a little, getting into a more comfortable standing position, he spoke once again, "**Very well, but be warned, you said that you wanted this done quickly and efficiently. This regime broke me when I was preparing for the Tournament, and it may do the same to you. It will test both your body and your mind. You will not only battle me, or the weights, or whatever training I put you through; but you will also battle yourself.**"

He listened to his teacher prattle on, nodding where appropriate, and remained completely still. As he did though, he questioned his motives. It was such a stupid, trivial motive to go through all of this just to impress a girl (or two, if he was lucky with Hyori). It's not like he _needed _to do this – he wasn't fat, he was fit, and so on.

And so it started. First off were one hundred push-ups. Not the worst of tasks, but it wasn't pleasant. Hwoarang regardlessly bit the bullet and did it, closing his eyes in an attempt to further his concentration. Something that was different, though, was the Baek hovering about him, pushing him on, practically… yelling at him. He already knew that it was nothing personal, but somehow, it drove him on. Well, he couldn't exactly complain. He didn't know what he was in for, aside from a battle against himself.

"**I want you working like you have **_**never **_**worked before,**" Baek growled lowly, "**Do **_**not **_**stop.**"


	15. Dream Yourself Far Away

_If it is in _normal _style, then it is speech.  
If it is in italics, then it is thought.  
If it is in __**bold,**__ then it is the individual's natural tongue.  
If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil.

* * *

_

Author's Note: I really think this chapter got away from me. XD

* * *

_**Chapter Fifteen: Dream Yourself Far Away **_

_He wanted to fly. Fly far, far away. But he couldn't, and he was forced to dream that he was. _

_His only escape. The only alternative._

_But in reality, as he idly moved his food around the plate with his silver fork; a younger Baek simply stared down, drowning further and further into the depressive hole he had dug for himself. The dirt walls were towering over him, and the light at the top was seemingly fading away. He wanted to reach out and grab it, and climb to the top and be free, but… there was no materials to, and he couldn't._

_He wasn't strong enough._

_But wings would be able to carry him. They would be able to lift him off of the ground, and carry him out of the hole. And with grace, he would land on luscious green grass once again, and be able to look at his Mother in the eye, and not breakdown or scream at himself, or hide in his room and hold his brown, furry teddy bear. _

_He wanted to cry, but he couldn't._

_The tears were there, forever numerous, like a waterfall. But they just did not fall. He wasn't trying to stop them, nor was he trying to force them, but… they just never came, as much as he wanted them to. He didn't want to seem ignorant, and he didn't want to seem disrespectful by not crying. If he had a choice, if it was truly seen as a sign of respect… he would cry until all of the water within his own body was gone. He would cry until he was dehydrated, until he had passed out… but he could not accomplish such a feat._

"_**Baek, sweetheart…**__"_

_His head snapped up immediately. Through brown eyes, he gazed at his Mother, who was patiently sitting at the opposite end of the table. At the end of her own fork was a piece of steak, quite far away from her mouth, but its journey to that place would still be inevitable. He tried to muster strength and stick it behind his voice, but as he opened his mouth and activated his voice, whatever strength he had gathered had faded away. His voice became a tiny, frightened squeak, "__**Yes?**__"_

"_**Eat up, would you?**__" she remarked, smiling slightly, "__**Come on now, growing boys need their nourishment.**__"_

_He nodded a little, his black fringe falling in front of his face. He certainly did not want to be disrespectful to her. He loved his Mother dearly, and he didn't want to cause anymore harm to her than what he had already dealt to her. In a mere matter of moments, he had ripped not only his world apart, but her world too. With one strong, cruelly placed kick, he tore life from his Father, and forced everything to a stand still. _

_And he hated himself for it._

_His Mother and his grandparents cried so much at his funeral. He wanted to join them. His love was so deep, but…_

I'm not worthy enough to show you how much I care, _he thought to himself again, stabbing his fork into a carrot._

His eyes slowly peeled open, and as always, he was met with almost complete darkness. The only light sources was from the gap between the curtains, which brought some moonlight into the room; and from the glow-in-the-dark analogue clock hanging directly opposite from him, a gift curtesy of Hwoarang. Now a fully grown man, and a far cry from the person he used to be… he still carried that pain.

He was like Hwoarang in some respects. It was probably why he was able to get along so well with the kid. He too had armoured himself after he accidentally killed his Father, and did not allow anyone else to get close to him. But as time went on, he took down those barriers. The nightmares still ate him up inside, but he did not allow them to sway him. They did not stop him from making friends, finding girlfriends and just overall… _living._

It didn't stop him living. Not now, not ever.

These dreams… they could haunt him forever. They could give life to the guilt he once felt, but it would never stop him from living. It was an accident, it's not like he had planned his Father's demise. It was a genuine accident, and he accepted that. He accepted the fact that it happened, he accepted the fact that he was the cause, but the fact of the matter was, he could not go back and change the past.

That's what happened. And that's it.

He did not bring sadness to the family thereafter. He did not bring further grief to his Mother, something he was pleased about. If anything, the experience strengthened him and gave him many early lessons. He became more responsible, he harnessed and truly understood respect and what it meant to love and be loved. And most of all, he learnt that he was indeed worthy enough. He always had been.

It didn't stop his sudden want for tea. Baek stood and stretched slightly, before grabbing his nearby bathrobe, slinging it on. Shivering slightly in the cold of midnight, he strolled out of his room, careful not to trip in the darkness; and made his way out to the kitchen, travelling down the corridor to get there. Tea soothed his nerves.

* * *

_She ran, but it seemed as though her feet are carrying her body fast enough. She's already tired, but she refused to stop, because _she couldn't _stop. She _needed _to keep going, if only to survive for those few more sweet, precious moments… even if they were hell. Even if they made her feel as though her insides would burn at one stage or another, or as though her ears would explode because of the screams from across the hall._

_But she knew that Daddy heard her rushing footsteps. He knew that she would head downstairs to the living room, where the phone hid, despite this time of night. But it didn't deter her, and she keep moving, a sleepy wreck but determined nonetheless. This time, she will get to that phone, and she will call the police. She will get to that phone, and scream for help, and give them the address – and he _can't _stop her. Because she won't let him._

_Tonight, she and her Mother _will_ walk free from hell, leaving the smoky cavern behind her. She swore it._

Razer rubbed her eyes and continued staring out into the veranda. The cherry blossom tree in the back, left corner of the backyard remained forever brilliant, even in the darkness. She could see the general outline of the tree, but barely. It was such a lovely tree, and it was proving to be a lovely distraction from the mental images flashing through her mind hurriedly. She truly wanted to wish them away. It had been a year and a half since she left behind that smoky cavern, and she still inhaled its intoxicating fumes.

_A thud echoed from upstairs, along with a harsh, desperate call of her name. Swallowing the hard lump in her throat, she moved faster and faster and faster towards the phone, desperate to get to it. She _needed _to get to it, and quickly. She didn't want to think about what would happen if she didn't, and it hurt inside knowing that she would be the next one to hit the floor and cause that echoing thud._

Almost there, _she thought to herself, trying to encourage yourself. Her bare feet slid over the carpeted floors, and she could see the phone. It was almost as though it was a beacon of hope to her. If she could touch it and hold it in her hands, if she could dial the number and call the police and explain everything and just… let it all out, then everything would be fine. Everything would be fine._

_It inched closer. And closer. And closer. And closer._

_And then it stayed where it was, out of her reach. She felt suspended, as though someone was holding her back harshly. There is sharp pain at the back of her head, like her Father was holding her by her hair, or had just struck her. She couldn't exactly tell, but it hurt regardless. It all hurt, even the knowledge of what was to come, as suggested by the dawning, dark laughter._

_He pulled her closer towards him, and she felt a large hand enclose around her small shoulder. With force, she was spun around, and the phone, forever so symbolic in its hope; faded away into the distance, no longer seen by her green eyes. The words she had prepared, the cries for help and the information so vital to the demise of her Father and the release of both her and her Mother; died in the back of her throat. _

She pulled in the urge to scream, and settled on crying in silence instead. Her focus blurred, no longer focusing on the scene outside, but now on her reflection in the glass. It had only been over a year and a half now, and both Koreans had their birthdays; but felt like yesterday, meeting them and all. Sighing heavily, she swallowed, her secrets itching under her skin, just waiting to burst through. And she wanted them to. These people had already done so much for her.

But which fact to present?

"Everything okay?"

She jumped and span around, seeing Baek having just exited the corridor. Regaining her composure and rubbing her eyes, she turned away and stared back out the veranda, nodding swiftly, "I'm fine, thank you for asking. What are you doing up at such an ungodly hour? Did I wake you?"

"I could ask you the same question, and no," he moved towards the kitchen, looking for a cup, "I just… had a bad dream."

"So did I…" she muttered.

"You did?"

Apparently, her voice hadn't been quiet enough, "…Yes."

The fact that his voice was practically lurching out of his throat in an attempt to be heard made Razer realise that he had been curious about her for a long while – a lot more than he let on, "Did you want to talk about it?"

She inwardly yelled, _Yes –_

Never.

And just like that, she was shot down.

You don't deserve to speak of your memories. You don't deserve the comfort he is giving you, let alone the home you are in.

She wanted to fight against the devil within and scream back at her, but she just could not find the strength at this time of night. After all, night time is when the creature was at her strongest, and when she was at her weakest. She merely hung her head and rubbed her eyes, trying to hide the pain from the approaching man, who was blowing on his tea.

A hand cautiously placed itself on her left shoulder. Athane peeked from the corner of her eyes, noticing that her instructor had joined her by the window, and was sporting some form of comfort anyway. Unsure of what motivated her to do so, or why she was so willing to, she placed a hand on his and slowly pulled it to the other side of her body, essentially bringing the two of them closer together in a loose hug.

She did, though, somehow find the courage to ignore her tears and let them come in the presence of Doo San.

_Weak _mortal… You are _weak._

Cowering at the voice's strength, not to mention its scary parallel to her Father, she grasped Baek's side tightly and buried her face into his shirt, trying to the best of her ability to let it all out. He noticed, and tightened his grip around her, rubbing her back slowly.

"Let it out," he murmured, "Let out whatever's troubling you. No one will judge you. It's okay."

For once, she listened, obeying him, because she knew it'd feel best. She longed for the days where she wouldn't be haunted.

* * *

It was a peculiar, April day.

Oh yes, he had class, but Hwoarang remained in the back music room, casually strumming on an electric guitar. He had music class for the first two periods, and he stayed throughout recess, periods three and four, and for the first half of lunch so far. His absence from classes was not noticed. Shin Min and Changmin didn't notice either, but he was not bothered and nor did he care. He was happy here, in his little sanctuary, however filthy, cluttered and dusty it may be.

His sleeves were rolled up to his shoulders, carelessly exposing carefully trained biceps. He had done the work that Baek set out for him, and the results were so far paying off. He felt better, he was a lot more confident in himself, and he was so much stronger. And Tae-Yang? About… two months after the last time they met, he quit class. Apparently, he moved to Busan, on the coast, _far _away from where he was… with a pregnant girlfriend. He couldn't help but scoff at the thought. But one thing's for sure, he was happy that he was gone.

In his absence though, going to school didn't seem so bad. Maybe the months that had gone by matured him a little, he didn't honestly know. But it wasn't so bad anymore. The girls were slowly coming out of their bitchy phase, the boys got over themselves, and everyone just generally got along. Of course, he veered away from large groups, but now, the Blood Talon was actually approachable, and he liked it.

Ah yes… The 'Blood Talon'.

Funny how Baek comes up with unusual nicknames. He just… randomly spluttered it out one day during one of their one-on-one training sessions. For some reason, it seemed to stick, and he liked it. He had changed his IM screen name from 'Idiot' to 'The Blood Talon' for kicks, and even a couple of people from school commented on how it seemed right. The lone wolf had grown wings, somehow, and transformed into a hawk, like his master. Still feared, but no longer elusive.

He tapped the white pick guard with his fingernails, wondering what to play next. His fingers were already very sore, but the 15-year-old didn't really care. He had been practicing so many American songs lately, because they sounded really good and they were new to his ears. Razer had introduced him to two new bands (one of which was a Greek death metal band called Inactive Messiah – he couldn't stop blinking when she said that she really loved listening to the band), and together they had found others on the internet, one of which was a band by the name of Breaking Benjamin. Both of them had taken a strong liking to their sound, and he had started to learn some of their songs when home alone.

His hand clenched. Damn that girl. Not out of bad wishes, but because she simply wouldn't stop prancing around in his mind.

The crush he had on her only grew. It was strong now, so strong that he was worried that in her eyes, his friend's eyes, maybe even the whole of Seoul's eyes – he was like a lovesick puppy… an analogy that Tae-Yang fondly used when referring to her. It was ironic, in some ways. However, not all hope was lost, so to say. He wanted to keep her as his friend, and find someone else if possible, in fear of damaging their bond.

The constant glancing and smiling at Hyori had paid off, on both their accounts. She occasionally hovered around him, and visa versa. He didn't feel for her as much as he did for the other girl, but it was strong enough to deem it a 'crush' and chase after it. They weren't together, nor were they on an affectionate, interactive level – but the spark was there, and if he wanted it, he could jump forth, pour oil on the ember, and watch it explode into a raging fire.

The pieces were on the board. All he had to do now was move them as he saw fit.

To think, though, that once school finished, he'd only see Hyori at classes. She wasn't appearing as much as she used to, so he couldn't help but think that she was going to leave as well. He didn't feel horrible about it but it would be sad to see her go, as well as Shin Min and Changmin. He liked all of them, they were his friends… But where as they wanted to go on to high school, he didn't. The minimal education in his system was middle school, and he was quickly approaching his finals. He'd be out of the damn place, and he could get a job and pursue his dreams of wanting to make it big with a band.

_One problem, _he chuckled to himself, _I need to stop being so damn shy about it… _He turned and looked over his shoulder, and shook his head, _I also need other people to help me out. I can't exactly drum and play guitar and sing at the same time like some type of awesome person. Though I am awesome. Just not _that _awesome… yet. But for now, I can dream myself far away and pretend that I'm about to crowd surf or something. _

He replaced the piano's introduction with guitar notes that followed the same notes and pattern. Deciding to take a break from the normal stuff he would play, he picked a song that he had slowly learnt to play on his own, right down to perfection. He wasn't a big fan of the band members themselves, but he liked The TRAX's songs. If he liked a particular song, he'd learn how to play it. It was as simple as that.

The bar chord game thundering down and he muttered the Korean words under his breath, still reflecting on their English translation. For some reason, the lyrics always got him.

_Do you know why the rain comes?__  
It's because someone is praying for all your sadness to be erased to comfort you.  
__It seems as I've already known you since I was young.  
After I met you, I even stood in the daybreak's heavily falling rain to help you.  
I was the one who believed._

A bashing on the back door made him jump, and in the process, he almost dropped the guitar, "**HWOARANG!**"

He looked up hurriedly, sienna eyes wide. At the back door of the small room stood Shin Min and Changmin, the former of whom had his face right up against the glass door, making shocked faces and using the glass to his advantage. Changmin pointed to the doorknob rapidly, hoping that his friend would unlock it, his call of 'open the damn door man' being lost behind the glass.

Placing the guitar down against the carpeted blue wall, he got off of his plastic seat and went to unlock it. The playground area behind the music rooms was bustling with life as always, but at the moment, his only focus was on the pair before him. Shin Min rushed inside, going straight to the guitar, "**Dude, I seriously thought that you had a guitar in your room only for decoration!**"

"**No… I **_**do **_**play.**"

"**Why'd you hide it?! You're awesome! I could hear you from outside and so could Changy –**"

Changmin interjected, "**Stop calling me 'Changy'! You're making me sound like your boyfriend, geez!**"

"**Stop PMSing Changy,**" Shin Min crooned teasingly, before returning to his former hyperactive state, "**But anyway! This is sick, man! This is totally freaking **_**sick! **_**In a good way!**" he picked up the instrument and thrust it back into his friend's hands, "**Play us something play us something!**"

He laughed, the surprise and shyness slowly melting away, though his hands were still shaking, "**What do you want me to play?**"

"**Oh man oh man oh man oh man, do you know any of The Used's songs?**"

Without a second thought, he played the introduction to 'Pretty Handsome Awkward', causing Shin Min to have another spaz attack. He started headbanging, but before long, his friend stopped playing, much to his distaste. Changmin laughed at Shin Min's expression, shaking his head, "**Hwo, you and I need to taunt him like that more often.**"

"**Well screw you then!**" he said, taking the guitar off of Hwoarang and starting the introduction to 'Liar Liar (Burn In Hell)'. Thereafter, he spoke again, heading towards the door with the instrument still in his hands, the black cord dragging along the floor, "**How do you like **_**them **_**apples!? Good day to you, sir!**"

Hwoarang rubbed his watery eyes, trying to contain his laughter, "**You play too.**"

"**Yes, and I am taking this guitar right now and am going to play outside!**" True to his word, he nudged the door open with his foot.

He didn't get very far though. The Blood Talon clamped his foot down on the cord, watching as it was forcibly tugged from the black guitar with Shin Min's exit. From what they could see, both Changmin and Hwoarang watched as he moved to stand in front of the window, and continued his playing, oblivious to looking like a fool, and not seeing the glances from various students and teachers.

Changmin smiled and turned to his friend, "**So why did you hide this gift?**"

"**I'm not that good,**" he answered immediately, scratching the back of his head.

"**Don't put yourself down!**" he said cheerily, "**Shin Min, in his hyperactivity, wasn't exactly joking around. How long have you been playing for?**"

"**Seven or eight years. I taught myself.**"

"**I've been playing bass for about the same amount of time, but I had lessons.**"

"**Cool.**"

Shin Min suddenly ran back in, his hand almost smashing through the glass, "**Duuuuuuuuude, we should **_**totally **_**make a band or something! You know, practice a song and play it for the farewell and stuff!**"

Changmin smirked, glad for once that he wasn't the insanely hyperactive one, "**We don't have a drummer.**"

He pointed to the 15-year-old, "**Fucking killjoy!**"

Hwoarang spoke, chuckling, "**Shin Min, that's actually a **_**great **_**idea. We can find a drummer, there's a few in my music class. What're we gonna play though? Should we just blast their heads off with Atreyu or Krypteria or Slipknot or something, for kicks? Imagine the look on the principal's face!**"

"**Hahaha! That'd be awesome!**"

Changmin, "**No metal. Stop dreaming, you two.**"

"**Fucking killjoy…**" they muttered.

Silence. Soon enough, Changmin spoke again, "**Hwo, what was that song you were playing when we interrupted you?**"

"**Um… 'Over The Rainbow' by the TRAX.**"

"**We'll play that then, it's a nice song,**" he stood, moving to go into the music store room, which was in the next room,"**Now, where can I find a bass… Oh by the way, I'm not singing.**"

Shin Min jumped at the thought and clutched the guitar closer to himself, "**Neither am I!**"

Hwoarang rolled his eyes and yanked the instrument out of his grasp, plugging the cord back in, "**Fine, I'll do it. Go get another guitar, Shin Min.**"


	16. Over The Rainbow

_If it is in _normal _style, then it is speech.  
If it is in italics, then it is thought.  
If it is in __**bold,**__ then it is the individual's natural tongue.  
If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil._

_

* * *

_

Author's Note: _Millions of peaches… Peaches for me… Millions of peaches… Peaches for free… _Anyway er, lol. Long chapter is long. XD. Also, this chapter is for TeaC0sy, it's her birthday! Happy birthday, man!

* * *

_**Chapter Sixteen: Over The Rainbow**_

He didn't know what was better. The fact that Baek and Razer were still out, or the fact that he had _no exams _now. The fact that it was… the last month. All this time, sitting in class, not paying attention and being far, far away… was finally over. There was only the final assembly, a celebration camp (for three measly days), getting his marks from school, the prom, and that's it. Then he could get the hell out of there, and never look back.

And _never _look back.

Well, he may as well make a lasting impression upon his classmates, aside from the 'lone wolf' and the 'Blood Talon' and the quiet kid who always picked fights and the Tae Kwon Do martial artist whose bite was way worse than his bark.

Heh. Yeah. Awesome.

He had used the time wisely, and was practicing over and over. The performance was… probably only a week or two away. They had found a drummer who agreed to play, and they all had a couple of sessions together at lunch and after school. Otherwise they just played on their own, until the piece was perfect – and then do it all over again. He was relentless in his rehearsals with or without the guys. He had bandaids over his fingers to cover blisters, and he was sure that despite such a precautionary measure, he was getting blisters on his blisters and then some.

It wouldn't stop him from taking the first step in achieving his dream, though. No way.

Tired and sore, Hwoarang started again.

* * *

_BZZT! BZZT! BZZT! BZZT!_

'_Annyeooooooonghaseyo Hanguk!'_

"'Hello Korea'? The hell…?"

It took him a moment to realise it was the alarm. A sleepy mess, Hwoarang slammed his hand on the alarm clock, thereafter almost throwing it off of his desk. Throwing the covers back, he stumbled out of his bedroom, and although jumpy, went about his morning ritual – shower, food, clean teeth, get dressed, go to school, and so on and so forth.

Fortunately, instead of getting dressed in his _uniform, _he could now dress up in whatever the hell he pleased, and he already had a damn good idea. The music teacher had approved of his performance with Shin Min, Changmin, and their drummer; and they would be performing near the start of the morning assembly. After assembly, of course, the graduating year would have a large lunch, interact with one another and their parents and so on and so forth; before returning to the hall for information on the coming camp and the prom, not to mention receiving their marks, praises and criticisms individually with a parent from each of their teachers.

Quite a big day for him.

His routine was disrupted, however. During the walk from the shower to the kitchen, with nothing but a blue towel around his waist, he met Razer in the kitchen. Her head snapped up, having heard footsteps, and immediately blushed at the image, which she tried to hide quickly by coughing and mumbling a barely-legible 'good morning'. He replied cheerfully and went about making his own breakfast, noticing occasional glances. Inside, he was smirking like there was no tomorrow.

_Looks like all that training and stuff really did pay off. _

He waited for his toast to pop up from the toaster, casually tapping his fingernails on the countertop, watching as the Greek busied herself nearby. The smirk finally appeared on his face, and he innocently asked, "What're you doing?"

"Cleaning dishes."

"Doesn't look like you are."

"Yes I am. You just cannot see the process because my hands are underneath the water."

"…Right. So uh…"

She turned around, suds sliding down her forearms, and furrowed her eyebrows, "What?"

"You coming to assembly with Baek?" he asked.

And he watched her eyes divert to somewhere else on his body, "Probably."

"My face is up here, Raze."

"Not my fault someone's suddenly acquired a very attractive body without me noticing."

His ego doubled – if not tripled – in size, "_Attractive _eh?"

"Yes. Quite. Perfect in fact. Now if you do not mind, I need to finish these dishes and finish getting ready…"

In that instant, his toast popped up, and he snatched it without a word, but with a giant grin.

* * *

"**I can't believe the performance is in like… ten minutes! Duuuuude!**"

Changmin growled in agitation. With every passing day, Shin Min was becoming more and more hyperactive, and in turn he was becoming more and more grouchy, "**Shut the hell up Shin, honestly. You're worse than a teething, bouncing baby with his favourite rattle in his hand, his diaper full of shit and at the same time, on speed.**"

Shin Min huffed, insulted at the comment, and crossed his arms across his chest. He had black jeans on – complete with a load of shiny, silvery items, a gold-coloured vest, and grey gloves that climbed up to his elbows. His black hair had been carefully spiked, though Changmin noted that it peculiarly looked like an opening fan, something which annoyed him, "**How creative of you, **_**Changy. **_**I wasn't aware you had the brain cells to formulate such an… an…**"

"**Insult?**" Hwoarang suggested, still checking himself out in front of the mirror.

"**Yeah! Such an insult! **_**Fag!**_"

Changmin scoffed, "**You always accuse me of being a homosexual, but whose tongue was deep down Sa'rang's throat, and exactly **_**where **_**were my hands on her body? That's right. Kiss my **_**sass**_**, bitch.**"

"**Sass?**"

"**My 'come back' so to say.**"

Hwoarang interjected again for a moment, "**Someone's obviously been listening to too much Cobra Starship.**"

Shin Min waved his comment away before speaking, "**I still dunno why Sa'rang's parents decided to call her 'sarang'. I mean for God's sake, naming your child '**love'**? Look out! I'm gonna name my kid 'dak'… **_**'**__chicken'_**! Geeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeez.**"

The comment caused Changmin to laugh. He stretched an arm across him, feeling his baggy, dark green t-shirt pull along the way; and looked to the Blood Talon, who was still busy fiddling with his hair, "**Hwoarang, it looks fine. Leave it.**"

"**Yeah but…**"

"**Hwoarang?**"

He stopped and look to Changmin.

"_**You look fine.**_"

"**Alright alright! I'm just nervous, geez… I mean I've… never played in front of **_**Baek, **_**let alone a crowd.**"

Shin Min did the peace sign, "**Relax dude!**"

He smiled a little and stood from his stool, looking down at himself one last time. He had a splash-pattern, dark red button shirt on – which he deliberately left unbuttoned, and tore the whole of the sleeves off about a year ago; tight, black jeans, a studded silver belt, black boots, black wristbands, a red bandana tied around his upper arm… and of course, his beloved goggles and the rocket pendant. His hair was still back, only he paid a bit more attention to it than usual, accenting it with a little bit of gel here and there, creating a slightly messier look.

He moved away and was about to grab his guitar and make sure it was tuned, when suddenly, Shin Min and Changmin's bickering chattering ceased. Whenever their motor-mouths stopped running, something was obviously distracting them, or something unexpected had, was about to, or was currently happening. He lifted his head and moved the approaching hand away from the school's guitar, before looking in their direction. Both his eyebrows raised in surprise, and a smile grew.

"Hello," Razer remarked, timidly waving.

The smile took a goofy form. He approached her, just a few steps, and greeted her friendlily in return, "Hey!"

They weren't that far apart, but the energy between them was strange. Hwoarang had noticed a change in his friend - especially with the way she acted around him – within the last few months or so. Since that day in the park, even during and after the confrontation with Tae-Yang, she had become more and more open, affectionate and caring to him. He liked that. He liked that a lot, he realised, as he clicked his tongue to break up the silence, watching as her forest green eyes roamed his form once again.

"Well look at you!" she said, smiling, "You look good."

The goofiness grew, "Thanks."

She inclined her head slightly in silent acknowledgement. Looking to Shin Min and Changmin, she waved, "Hello."

They waved back, concealing grins of their own.

However, the smiles intimidated her slightly, for whatever reason. Shrinking back a bit, though straightening up with her hands behind her back, she said to all of them (even though one wouldn't understand), "I just came to wish you all good luck with your performance. You guys have guts!"

"Thanks!" they said, in whatever language.

She nodded a little again and turned her gaze to Hwoarang. Smiling, she turned to leave, "See you later."

With a short wave, he watched her go, and their drummer approach, who was dressed in a 'whatever' type attire. The fact that their drummer was here now meant that the performance couldn't have been too far away. His throat tightened at the very thought. Soon, he would expose one of his treasures to the school populace, and to his best friend and his master.

And of course, now that she had appeared, she wouldn't exactly leave his head so he could focus on the job. But as he thought, he realised something. Yeah she had changed him and all but, he didn't exactly realise how much he was influenced by her. If it wasn't for her, he wouldn't be as open as he was, let alone truly see Shin Min and Changmin as his _friends _rather than his _acquaintances. _And he probably never would've bothered to go ahead with this 'band' thing, temporary or not, if he didn't gain that confidence within himself, which was driven by her.

Strange.

Shin Min the opportunist noticed this, "**Hey now, on stage, try and keep your focus on playing the chords, not on imagining her naked.**"

Immediately blushing at the idea, let alone the thought, he glared at Shin Min, "**Asshole.**"

Feigning innocence, Shin Min wandered off to tune the guitars, "**I don't know what you're talking abouuut!**"

Changmin rolled his eyes and sighed, moving to also check the school's bass.

* * *

He felt like a king.

A king, standing before his army, surveying them. Intimidated by the masses before him, but not deterred. His weapon, his _instrument _in his hands, with his smartest generals – or the other musicians, rather – standing behind him, giving him unwavering support, waiting for him to start them off. He had to lead, because he was the leader. The wolf had his pack, and he was the alpha male. The hawk had to leap off and glide. He had to strike first, before they got him instead.

He could feel his hands shake as they ascended and rested on the microphone. He leant on it and its stand, and tapped it for a second with his thumb, checking the sound and awaiting for a majority of the students to pay attention – not to mention to try and relax himself. Bide his time and hope that the nerves in his stomach settled a little. Soon enough, he had most of the populace's attention, and he spoke, "**Hey.**"

He had them now.

"**Okay so, school's almost finished and all… and this is our last year here in middle school. A lot of you guys will go onto high school, and some, like me, won't even bother. In the past, kids have come up and done like… a comedy act or given some large speech or something. At times, we'd pay attention. At other times, we wouldn't. I don't necessarily care if you don't listen to us, because we **_**wanted **_**to do this. If you're gonna chatter to your friend next to you about what colour nail polish you wanna put on, or how mighty sweet that goal was at lunch time yesterday, then go ahead, we're not bothered. Actually, I encourage it. Makes me feel like it's more a practice than a performance, at least.**

"**But anyway, uh…**" he'd lost it already. Hwoarang bit his lip and surveyed the area, seeing that almost everyone's eyes were on him. The student populace was clearly intrigued as to why the lone wolf – or Blood Talon, whichever nickname or analogy they preferred – was on the stage in front of them all about to play something to them. He questioned himself for moment, _What am I doing up here? What made me come up here? What… What gave me the confidence to come up here in the first place?_

He looked to the visitor's section, indeed finding Baek and Razer sitting right at the back. Razer was sitting on one of the isle sides, and Baek was standing behind her in the open area, having offered his chair to an elderly lady. He smiled for a moment. He was up here because he wanted to be, because he wanted to walk towards his dream. Nothing _made _him come up onto the stage – he wanted to. And the confidence came from himself, as inspired by the Greek, and he was so, so thankful for it.

He looked back to the rest of the people, that small smile still on his face. He suddenly felt creative and cryptic for no damn reason, "**This goes out to someone very special… because she brought me out of the den and helped me back into the pack when I never thought I… When I never thought I could go back into it. She fixed my broken wing… and I can fly again.**"

Hwoarang leant back from the microphone as Shin Min played the introduction notes on the guitar. Soon, their drummer joined them softly, and thereafter the Blood Talon created the necessary fading in and out sounds on his guitar, before slamming his arm down, bringing in the full sound along with Changmin and the drummer. Swallowing his pride after three beats, he closed his eyes, briefly licked his dry lips, and opened his mouth to sing. And as every word left him, he could feel a part of him drift out with it.

He wanted to crack his eyes open and make sure that no one was laughing at him. It felt strange, putting a part of himself out to the masses, but it also felt… good. He supposed he'd feel less strange with time. He had promised himself before the performance, though, to look at them at least once. _At least_ once. Maybe not now, because he had just gotten past the verse and was about to tackle the chorus. His nerves settled as he did, and as the Korean words fell from his mouth in the middle of it, he opened his eyes, marvelled to see that he was indeed being watched with silent smiles.

_When the rain comes, think of me. Will that give you strength?  
I've left and my trace is all over the rainbow._

* * *

"**We did it!**" Shin Min yelled. In his joy, he tore off his vest and swung it around in the air, "**Woooooooo!**"

Changmin joined him in the happy shouts, thereafter adding, "**We've all done something we've wanted to do for ages! Did you see the crowd? They were all like 'woaaaaaaaah' and 'no way' and even some of the girls were silently fan-girling!**"

Hwoarang remained silent, but was still feeling their joy. His nerves still had the best of him. He was still a bit shaky, but it was getting better thankfully. He stood just as tall as his accomplices, outside in the foyer, away from the crowd, who were more than pleased with the performance. He tugged at one of his wristbands, simply waiting for his nerves to subside.

Shin Min looked at the Blood Talon, "**I dunno what you were so fuckin' nervous about man, you didn't even go off key!**"

"**It was his first time performing,**" Changmin quipped, "**He told us that.**"

"**Shut up!**"

He chuckled, scratching his red hair, "**Quit bickering, you two.**"

Suddenly, Changmin released a high-pitched shriek. The other two Koreans blinked at him, perplexed, before he suddenly rattled off at a mile an hour about receiving their marks today. He was worried about how he would do, especially in the English class. He wondered how dismally he'd fail that. On the bright side, he was expecting good marks for his computer class. All the while, his cousin tried to calm him down, though Shin's voice was struggling to be overpowering.

One of the hall doors creaked open slowly. The three boys looked to the source of the noise, in complete silence. Hwoarang's face slacked, and his cheeks heated up. Shin Min turned to Changmin and declared that he had won a 'bet', and he was to give him fifteen won for winning it. The bet was on whether or not Razer would come out to see them.

Shin Min was right.

She ran over and jumped on the Blood Talon, hugging him, "That was kick. Fucking. Ass."

The fact that she swore clearly indicated that it was no word of a lie. He hugged back, smiling, "Thank you."

"Why did you hide it for so long? I thought that your guitar was in your room only for decoration."

"That's what I said!" Shin Min remarked.

Razer chuckled and moved to Shin Min and Changmin, also giving them brief hugs, "You guys were also kick ass."

Hwoarang waited for her to stop before speaking, "You know me, Raze. I hide a lot of things and bring them out when I'm ready. I never… really thought I was good enough."

"I'm no musician, but your playing and singing was proficient."

He grinned.

Soon enough, the school bell rang. It was lunch time.

* * *

"Ths s a fuggn gd htdog," Hwoarang remarked, walking up the hill.

"What did you say? And don't talk with your mouth full," Razer scolded.

He swallowed the food in his mouth, "I said, 'this is a fucking good hotdog'. It's just so… _yum._"

She smiled, taking a small sip from her drink.

The pair had strayed far, far away from the designated area, getting away from the other students who were still quite shocked at the quality of the Blood Talon's performance and far too busy complimenting him on it (and in some cases, his appearance). Baek suggested the idea of going elsewhere, and they took it to heart. Shin Min and Changmin didn't mind either, and were busy basking in the afterglow of the performance, even having the guts to flirt with some of the girls.

He had led them to the basketball courts, which was at the bottom end of the school itself, and the journey was mostly uphill. Hwoarang thought it would be a nice, empty, quiet place to go and eat and just hang out in general. He wanted some alone time with her, seeing as lately, most of his time was put into his exams and the performance.

Plus, he figured if he could go up and perform then, well… maybe his confidence would transfer to telling her how he felt.

"Thrs sum bnchz," he said, pointing to a couple of benches.

"Don't talk with your mouth fulllll," she repeated, taking a bite out of her own hotdog thereafter.

He shrugged and sat down on the cold, metal bench, and placed his coke on his right side for easy access. Now holding the hotdog in both hands, he hurriedly began to eat it, and bounced his leg a little. For once, the area was clean. Normally it was filthy, littered with rubbish in every possible location. He found a porn magazine while picking up rubbish once. Of course, the duty was forced. It was punishment.

Soon enough, the food was gone. He slowly sipped on his coke as his counterpart continued to nibble away at her food. He watched her from the corner of her eyes, realising that she was silently inspecting the place, fulfilling her curiosity. He said, "Is my school anything like the one you went to in Greece?"

"No," she replied, "It is much cleaner, larger, and there are better facilities."

"I see."

All small talk ceased. At least five or so minutes later, the 15-year-old took the rubbish and tossed it in the bin behind him, thereafter clearing his throat and leaning back, his hands resting on the seat. He longed to find a topic to talk about.

It seemed she found one for him, "Hey, do you remember what I said this morning? About… your body?"

"Yeah."

"I meant it. But don't think that _that _is all I look for in a guy, yeah?"

"I know. I mean, I'm dumb, but I'm not _that _dumb."

"You are not 'dumb', you're just not…"

"Book smart?"

"Yes."

He chuckled and patted her hand, subconsciously leaving it there afterwards, "I know who you are, what you're like and what you like. I know you're not that shallow. There are _heaps _of people in this school that are, though; but I know that not all of the girls in the world are like that. The guys aren't either. I mean… if… I could sit here and list all of the things I liked about _you _physically without getting murdered somehow, I'd do it."

Silence.

_Damn, _he thought, _I can't believe I just said all that._

"That sounds like a challenge to me," she remarked, folding her arms.

He grinned a little, "Okay, fine. Give me a minute to check you out."

She quirked her eyebrow and lightly blushed at the prospect, but regardlessly sat still and allowed him to do such a thing.

After a few moments, he said, "Okay, first thing I like are your eyes –"

"My eyes?" she crowed, bewildered, "The ones you made fun of _so_ much when we first met?"

"Yeah. I dunno why I made fun of them. I… I really love them. They're like… I don't think I've ever seen green eyes like _that _before. But uh… yeah," he scratched the back of his head, observing her a little more, "Your hair's nice too. Just makes me wanna… eh… mm… Cheesy and all but, makes me wanna run my fingers through it. You've got a nice face and a nice body. And yeah don't take any offence or hit me or anything, but you have great tits," he scratched the back of his head and diverted his gaze to the trees behind her, "I mean seriously, think about what us guys have gotta work with… either they're the small, pixie tits that Asian girls are known for, or they're overly fake. Yours are a nice size. And uh… yeah."

"I see. What do you see in other girls?"

"Um… nothing… really. I mean yeah I see stuff but… This is really hard to explain, you know."

"I gathered. Forget I asked then."

He nodded a little before looking at their hands, noticing that she hadn't moved away. Such a small fact pleased him. Maybe now was the time to say something. But what was he going to say? How was he going to say it?

Razer spoke, "Hey?"

"Yeah?" he replied, looking at her.

"Is this… what best friends feel like?"

Silence.

"I think so," he answered finally, "I'm not so sure myself."

"It's… nice."

Hwoarang nodded a little, replying with a small and simple 'yeah', before finding the courage within himself to wrap his hand around hers, as opposed to simply leaving it there. To his surprise, she responded the same way, and squeezed his hand. Smiling, he felt a little more relaxed and a lot happier inside. He gazed out to the sky, seeing a very faint rainbow strike through the sun.

"If I'm wrong," he said to her, "Then I don't want to be right."


	17. A Thousand Words

_If it is in _normal _style, then it is speech.  
If it is in italics, then it is thought.  
If it is in __**bold,**__ then it is the individual's natural tongue.  
If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil._

_

* * *

_

Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to Danko Kaji, for being an awesome friend/reader/etc :3 :3 :3. People like Danko Kaji _–joking evil glare at Sei Honou- _will also absolutely adore this chapter for… reasons that will become obvious at the end of the chapter XD

* * *

_**Chapter Seventeen: A Thousand Words**_

_To: Hwoarang__  
From: Hwoarang  
Subject: Smile!_

_Hey._

_This is acting __way__ more like a diary than it should be I don't care. I want to remember this, so when I'm feeling like shit, I can read this email and grin stupidly, then go on my merry way and go back to whatever it was I was doing at the time, in the future after this email. _

_Hey there, future Hwoarang. Don't frown. __Smile.__ Because life's too short for frowning._

_Just remember the first time she told you that you're her best friend. Just remember what that felt like. A thousand words all knotted up in your stomach, tied and unable to untangle themselves and come out, because you're just too fucking happy to say anything, and you're left speechless. You're on a literal high. And you not only don't want to come down from it, but you don't think you can for a while._

_What's next?_

Click.

Once the message sent, he shut down the computer and stumbled out of the office and into the main room, a happy grin still on his face. It grew slightly when he saw Razer sitting upon one of the stools at the kitchen bench, engrossed in yet another book. Sliding his feet over the timber floors, he snuck up behind her and swiftly stole the book out of her hands, much to her unhappiness, as indicated by the distressed cry. She turned looked over her shoulder, seeing the Blood Talon staring at the page she was just reading intently.

"World War One again, huh?" he remarked, scanning down the page.

"Yes."

He grinned and snapped the book shut, "I see."

"You didn't just close it, did you?" she remarked.

"I did."

"I've lost my page now. Thanks."

"You're welcome," he said, placing it on the table, looking at her.

She looked back and curiously quirked her eyebrow, "What?"

The grin grew slightly, "Nothing."

Razer turned away with a light shrug and reached for the book again. She opened it, flipping through the pages, trying to find the one she had been reading previously. Luckily, she located it, and picked up from where she left off. She was well aware of the shadow over her, though, and after a few minutes she addressed Hwoarang again, "Quit doing that, I feel violated."

"I'm just staring," he remarked.

"And it is violating me."

"You're cute when you're being all hissy."

Growling under her breath, she snapped the book shut and looked up at him from the corner of her eyes. She calmly placed the book down on the table, and hopped off the stool, turning to stand face to face with him, her arms folded across her stomach. Feigning annoyance, she narrowed her eyes at him; and in the back of her mind, she was briefly reminded of a younger sister glaring up angrily at her older brother.

He stuck his hand out and moved it to her head, patting it lightly, "Don't take offence."

The hand drifted from her head to the side of her face. The back of his fingers smoothly glided down her cheek, and he noticed her freeze up entirely. Containing a smirk, he let it fall further, sliding down her neck and past her hair, over her shoulder, and down her arm. He forced himself to maintain eye contact with her, noticing that her own eyes were darting around, as though trying to read his.

And then he found his target, unleashed his smirk, raised his other hand and began to tickle her sides mercilessly.

"Asshole!" she yelled, her voice laced with laughter. She desperately tried to get away, skittering towards the couch in the hopes of hiding. Sadly, her attempts at escape failed, and as she tried to get away, she tripped over the arm rest of the couch, consequently knocking her friend's legs fiercely, bringing Hwoarang along with her.

The fall didn't deter him, and soon enough he was sitting on her waist, straddled, and continued tickling her sides. She thrashed about, still laughing, which caused him to start laughing too. He was unaware of Baek entering the room with raised eyebrows, speaking to Michelle Chang about some stalker named Ganryu, amongst other things; he was too focused on what was going on here. This was what was important.

His left wrist was seized and pushed back. Instantly, he moved to peel Razer's hand off, but his other hand was instantly grabbed as well. He struggled for a bit, before realising that she was smirking at him. It morphed into a smile, and he couldn't help but smile too. It was then that a surge of confidence snaked through his system, and he slid his hands into hers, grasping them lightly.

Her smile faded when she looked at their hands and heard Devil chuckle, What have we here?

Hwoarang realised her sudden silence, and relinquished his hold, turning away and sitting on the lounge just as Baek moved the phone away from his ear, "**Quick, put in on the sports channel, Michelle's telling me that Heihachi Mishima is on it.**"

He fumbled for the remote, swearing as he had been surprised by his master (and he rolled his eyes at his usual comeback, which was '_language, _kid'), and he felt Razer sit up next to him and look at the television, "What is going on?"

"Heihachi's on tv apparently," Hwoarang answered.

"Remember the tournament tales I used to tell you two?" Baek remarked, holding the phone away from his mouth, "He created it, and participated in both the first and second ones. I would have thought Kazuya, his son, would maintain his title as the reigning champion, and kept the Mishima Zaibatsu for himself, but… obviously not, if Heihachi is on screen. I wonder what happened to Kazuya then. He wouldn't have gone down without a fight."

Heihachi's voice boomed from the television. His English was firm, and Hangul subtitles ran along the bottom, "I am here to address the rumours that have been circulating within the underground martial arts communities. It has been fifteen, long, perilous years since the last King Of Iron Fist tournament. Many of our previous fighters have died, or moved on from fighting altogether. There is much going on in the world, and I myself am feeling the heat of some of these… _problems…_

"But I am _not _holding another King Of Iron Fist tournament any time soon," his eyes narrowed at the camera, "I may hold one in the future, but as for there being one _now… _I do _not _think so. That Tournament will remain at the bottom of my priorities for many years to come. Sorry to crush your hopes, but I had to quell these rumours, and _fast. _If you are looking for a tournament to go and… _die _in… then this is not the one for you, for it is also _dead_."

The footage of him vanished, and in its place was a Korean reporter. All three lost interest in the television. Baek left the room again, talking rapidly to Michelle. Both of his students watched as he left, before turning to look at each other again, one eyebrow raised for both of them. Curious. He seemed to come alive more so than ever when speaking to Michelle.

"What do you want to do now?" Razer asked.

"Hm… Let's play truth or dare."

"Okay. You start."

"Eh…" he slumped in the couch, placing his hands behind his head. He could feel his shirt riding up, "Truth."

"Do you dye your hair?"

"Yes," he looked at her, amused, "You already knew that."

"Yes well… I really did not know what else to ask, so I thought that _that_ would do to get the ball rolling. Truth."

"Happiest day of your life. Tell me."

She paused for a moment, also slouching back in the chair, her arms folded across her stomach. It was difficult to summon the best memory she had, but at the same time, it was incredibly easy. She knew straight off, but wanted to make sure that there was nothing else that rivalled it within her fourteen years of being alive. Smiling, she looked at him, watching his placid facial expression morph into a mirrored smile, "When we were at the basketball courts at your school, after the assembly."

"Really?"

Her eyes shied away from his, "Yeah…"

"Mine too."

She nodded a little, turning wholly in her seat to face him, "I see."

He mirrored her actions, now lying on one arm, "Truth."

"Did you _really _hate Tae-Yang? You weren't… jealous of him or whatever?"

"Both," he replied, looking down, "Didn't like him to begin with, jealous that he could so easily get a girl."

Razer smiled a little, "I see. Truth."

"…Do you _ever _plan to learn Korean wholly?"

"Why bother when I have my little interpreter right here?" she pulled his cheek jokingly.

He grinned, looking up, "Fine then, I see how it is. You're lazy."

"I am being _smart, _not lazy."

"And what if one day you're without me?"

"Like that would happen."

The grin grew, "Dare."

She blinked, "What?"

"Dare me."

"Um… Geez I dunno. I dare you to cuddle me."

He raised both eyebrows.

"What?" she fumbled, trying to contain her embarrassment, "I couldn't think of anything!"

Hwoarang feigned fear, "Oh no! I have to cuddle a girl! The horror! I'm gonna fucking die!"

"Shut up!"

He smiled and pulled her close, holding her, resting his chin atop her head, "You're an idiot. You could've dared me to walk around naked, if you were _that _desperate for ideas."

"I'm not that mean," Razer replied, settling against his warm form. This was surprisingly… nice.

A smirk, "Well, _I_ am that mean –"

"Truth."

Luckily, he had a question, "Do you like this?"

"…Like what?"

He tightened his hold around her and looked up at the ceiling, "You know… _this._"

"Of course I do," Razer replied, hesitating before tentatively placing a hand on his chest, "It's nice. And warm. And cuddly. And…"

"And what?" he murmured, looking at her, surprised to find her looking back, and further surprised at their proximity.

_And it feels _right_… _she squeaked inwardly.

And it has never been more _wrong,_ Devil hissed.

She said nothing and briefly shook her head, smiling. She shuffled about in his arms again, slightly curling up, her head now resting squarely on his shoulder. Hwoarang blinked several times, amused and surprised that she hadn't sat back up again. Their closeness had him feel light-headed, warm and happy. He could feel her breathing and her warm skin against his, and he had never felt so… pleasant.

_What the hell is wrong with me?_

He hesitated for a moment before reaching for her hair, stroking it lightly. When he met no resistance, he pressed a little harder and continued his actions, occasionally allowing his fingers to slide through it. He noticed that she seemed to enjoy the action, and he couldn't help but grin as he looked down on her, her eyes sealed shut. He could get used to this. He _really _could get used to this.

He wondered about many things as he stared silently.

* * *

The morning arrived much faster than she had expected. The night slipped through her fingers and was drowned out in laughter and soft murmurs. She lay in his arms the whole time, unmoving, much to her surprise; and he didn't move either. It was an intriguing development, and whilst Razer inwardly felt uplifted, the devil within was extremely curious, wearing a vigilant smirk on her face.

_Maybe he was just being nice? _she thought to herself, rising from her bed, running a hand through her tousled hair.

Devil said nothing. She was silent, but she knew why. It amazed her how incredibly stupid the youth was. It was, and had been for a while, _clear _that he liked her. He was trying to make an effort, trying to show her – and in blindness, she didn't believe in what she saw. She took it as something else, for whatever reason. And it was a stupid reason indeed.

Razer opened the door and stepped out of her room, stretching her arms behind her back. To her surprise, she saw Hwoarang eating breakfast. He was fully dressed in his casual gear, which he intended to wear to camp; and his bag was by his foot. He lifted his head and looked at her, smiling to the best of his ability. He didn't necessarily want to choke on the vast amount of cereal in his mouth. The corners of the flakes felt as though they were cutting into his tongue, and the milk wasn't really doing anything to make the flakes soggy.

"Excited are we?" she remarked, walking past him, searching for her usual morning fruits.

He nodded, returning to his food, a slight 'mhm' sliding from his tongue.

His tone of voice not only conveyed this, but it conveyed something else. Picking at some grapes, she asked immediately, "Something wrong?"

"Nah."

Popping a few more grapes into her mouth, Razer walked to the side of the counter and watched him eat for a bit. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, something was definitely chewing at his insides, and she wanted to know what it was. She often tried her best to hide such concern, for in her old household, concern was thought to be weakness; and whilst she knew it wasn't now, it was hard trying to voice the full depth of her worries.

Sienna eyes nervously darted away from his nearly-empty bowl, and refocused on her, "What?"

"I…" she bit her lip before stepping away, "Nothing. I will go and take your bag to the front door."

She took the bag by the hand, and indeed stayed true to her word, thinking along the way. Perhaps he was regretting last night's friendliness? Or perhaps he really, really wanted to go to camp and wished that the school bus would hurry up and arrive. She came to the end of the long corridor and took a look back, seeing that the Blood Talon had long since stood up and left, most probably going to go and brush his teeth.

Saying nothing, she turned back to the task at hand, and placed the bag down. Straightening up a little, she looked out the window, noticing that there was no bus in sight. Baek, if he were awake, would have made some snide comment by now about how the bus driver really needs to check his directions. It wasn't the first time he had gotten lost coming to the dojang before, and it certainly wouldn't be 'the last time'.

She continued to stare, the silence eating her up, _Say something._

What do you want me to say? Devil growled.

_Just say something. Say _anything. _What do you make of this situation? Is he mad or just tired?_

He is obviously keeping something from you. And I do not blame him. Who would want to tell _you _secrets?

_I am trustworthy, _she murmured.

No you're not, monster.

She didn't realise how long she was standing there until someone behind her cleared their throat. She jumped slightly, putting a hand to her chest due to the fright, and looked over her shoulder, seeing Hwoarang stand there with both hands in the pockets of his jeans. Concern brewed deep in his eyes, and he wanted to ask why she was quieter than normal and why she had been standing there for so, so long. Any passing person could have easily mistaken her for a coloured statue.

She turned wholly and placed her hand by her side, looking up at him for a moment; before looking to her right, still trying to compose herself from the shock. She looked back to him when he took a step closer, and she found herself confused and frozen once again, gazing at his face. There was a look that she couldn't describe, like a deep want, or many wants; but he was scared. He was clearly frightened, and even confused about what to do or say, and which to act upon. She could see a thousand words, trying to piece themselves together and construct a coherent sentence. It was all in his eyes.

Getting nervous from just looking at him, she turned her gaze to elsewhere – _anywhere _but his face. But he didn't let her, and her jaw was gently seized and forced back to him. Elsewhere in the environment, she swore she heard the bus beep, but it was so faint compared to this vivid picture that it died out in the unimportant background. Her breathing froze, seemingly along with her beating heart, when she realised exactly how close they were. She could feel him try to steady his own breathing, and she could feel every puff of air that escaped from him.

He is hesitating.

Razer couldn't form a thought to respond to Devil's bland statement, for the paralysis that originated in her lungs and heart had hurriedly swept through to every other part of her body, right down to her toes. She couldn't speak or think, wondering what the murmured male 'fuck it' meant; and barely managed to close her eyes when he hurriedly kissed her.

It was soft, warm and gentle, despite the sudden speed of the initiation; and it put life back into her body, causing her heart to violently smash against her rib cage, trying to break through, and for her lungs to soar through the 'regular' rate, right through to erratic. Hwoarang's hand dropped when he realised that she hadn't moved, and he pressed a little harder, still a bundle of frayed nerves, trying to communicate his innermost thoughts. His fear was gripping him tightly, consuming him, and she noticed this and was in a very similar state.

He was putting his feelings on the line, and she was too stunned to accept them with the joy within.

As fast as it began, he pulled away and looked at her for a few moments, almost shaking from the pressure. Turning away, he hurriedly picked up his bag, opened the dojang door, and skittered out to the bus stop, trying to relax and bring himself back to normal. He boarded the bus and walked down the chattering isle, down to the back where Changmin and Shin sat. He took up the window seat behind them and looked out, seeing the Greek still standing at the door exactly as he left.

He couldn't see the hint of a smile on her face, and he was oblivious to the one on his face, as he placed his elbow on the small, rubbery window sill and rested his chin on his fist.


	18. Wicked Game

_If it is in _normal _style, then it is speech.  
If it is in italics, then it is thought.  
If it is in __**bold,**__ then it is the individual's natural tongue.  
If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil.

* * *

_

_**Chapter Eighteen: Wicked Game **_

"**Oh God, the food… I'm so stuffed,**" Changmin belched, thereafter covering his mouth, "**Pardon me.**"

Shin grinned, "**With the way you were eating that hotdog, I wouldn't be surprised if you –**"

"**These gay jokes!**" Changmin yelled, pulling down on his maroon beanie,"**They have to stop!**"

He already had lost interest in his cousin and looked to the redhead sitting next to him, who was staring intently at his feet with an expressionless face, "**Yo Hwoarang? Something wrong? You're dead quiet ya know!**"

_Should I have bothered? She didn't do or say anything… _"**Yeah, I'm fine, just thinking.**"

"**Oooooh, about what?**"

"**I did something today that I'm not sure I should've done.**"

The two cousins looked at one another before looking back to him. Changmin pressed, "**And what might this be?**"

He looked up, eyes narrowed, defensive, "**That's for me to know, and for me to know **_**only.**_"

Surprised by this sudden feat, he backed off, "**Alright alright, sheesh.**"

Silence swept the them all. They were in their designated room, fit for four people. They fortunately got to pick most of their own group, however the last member was forced upon them by the teachers – Ji-Yong, the unpopular, nerdy child in their grade. They didn't mind him, as he usually kept to himself and simply read in the background of their conversation.

But surprisingly, he piped up, and of course, his internet slang eventually crept into his speech, "**Obviously Hwoarang's issue is around the relationship area. That's the only reason he'd get really defensive, like whenever some new kid would mistake Baek to be his grandpa. Lol that was funny.**"

Shin drummed his fingers together and glanced suspiciously at the Blood Talon, "_**Relationship?**_"

"**Probably that girl that'd meet up with him at the end of school with Baek,**" Ji-Yong yawned.

"**Ooh ooh! So it's about Razer huh?**"

Hwoarang snapped immediately and moved to his default position, "**No… Hyori.**"

Changmin spluttered, "**You like Hyori?!**"

"**Yes?**"

"**No way?**"

"…_**Yes?**_"

Changmin blinked repeatedly, "**Right then… **_**Seriously?**_"

"**Yes!**" he hissed.

Shin Min smirked slightly and looked to his cousin again, "**I think he's lying.**"

"**I'm tired of these wicked games, guys,**" Hwoarang lay back on his designated bed, which was on the left side of the room and the bottom bunk, "**Can we talk about someone else's life for once instead of always pinning it on me?**"

"**Sure thing,**" Shin said, thereafter turning to Changmin, "**So, have you met any nice, possible boyfriends lately?**"

"**Fuck's sake! You're going down!**"

A pillow was thrown overhead, and an annoyed grunt was the consequence. Soon after, another pillow was thrown, and it continued back and forth, curses flying along with it. Hwoarang rolled his eyes and tapped his fingers on the back of his head, bored and wanting something to do. He looked to Ji-Yong for a moment, noticing that he was pulling out a small laptop.

Curious, he spoke on an audible, yet still quieter level, "**Ji-Yong, you brought your **_**laptop?**_"

"**Just wanna check my emails while we're here. I'm getting job offers in Japan and stuff so I really need to make sure that I get on top of an offer straight away,**" he remarked, "**You can use it if you like once I'm finished, for your emails or messenger or games or whatever, I don't care. Just no porn please, I don't want my Mother to find out, lolololol.**"

He smiled, "**Thank you.**"

Ji-Yong nodded a little, scrolling through what was left of his emails whilst pushing his glasses back up his nose. Once satisfied, he gave another little nod and stood up, transferring the small item and its corresponding cords to his fellow Korean, "**Just hide it under your blanket if a teacher comes in, I'm aware we weren't supposed to bring any sort of valuable electrical equipment.**"

"**Sure.**"

The 15-year-old smiled again in thanks, before turning his attention to the screen, and opened MSN messenger, which was conveniently on the desktop. Signing in, he watched the two little men spin around in circles, before his small contact list was apparent. He scanned through them and found the name he was looking for, slightly surprised.

_Idiot: Hey.  
__Razer: What are you doing online? o.o  
__Idiot: o.o yourself  
Idiot: Some kid brought his laptop. I'm borrowing it.  
Razer: By force?  
Idiot: By kindness -.-  
Razer: Oh…  
Razer: Well… how is it so far?  
Idiot: Meh.  
Idiot: Kinda bored.  
Idiot: Shin and Changmin are throwing pillows at each other above me  
Idiot: The guy who owns the laptop is reading and listening to some weird techno trance shit  
Idiot: And I'm talking to my best friend._

He paused.

_Idiot: How about you?  
Razer: When did you change your username from 'The Blood Talon' back to 'Idiot'?  
Idiot: Bleh. It'll change soon, once the account recognises I'm on another laptop or something.  
The Blood Talon: See, there we go.  
Razer: I see.  
Razer: I am just surfing the net, playing a few games here and there… and also talking to you.  
The Blood Talon: Cool.  
The Blood Talon: So uh…  
Razer: Yeah.  
The Blood Talon: Anything to talk about?  
Razer: Yes but… I am afraid to voice it._

He froze.

_Razer: But I'll try.  
Razer: Why did you kiss me?_

Because he wanted to.

_The Blood Talon: Friendly gesture.  
Razer: On the lips?  
The Blood Talon: Very quick and hurried and poorly planned and misaimed friendly gesture?  
Razer: Oh…  
The Blood Talon: You sound disappointed.  
Razer: What makes you say that?  
The Blood Talon: Those dots at the end of your sentence.  
Razer: I see.  
Razer: Well… I'm not disappointed.  
Razer: Just would've thought that on the LIPS means something more.  
Razer: But who am I to question your customs.  
The Blood Talon: You're not mad?  
Razer: No.  
Razer: I enjoyed it. Thank you for the 'gesture'.  
The Blood Talon: You're welcome I guess.  
Razer: Baek saw, by the way.  
The Blood Talon: …shit.  
The Blood Talon: SIGH  
The Blood Talon: -.- What did he say?  
Razer: He had this big, stupid grin on his face.  
Razer: I think its still there.  
The Blood Talon: XDDDDDDDDDDD  
Razer: Yeah.  
The Blood Talon: So long as you're not mad, it's all good then.  
Razer: Why would I be angry?  
The Blood Talon: Dunno.  
The Blood Talon: Just would've thought you would be.  
The Blood Talon: Was why I left without looking back or saying good bye.  
Razer: Was your shaking a part of this too?  
The Blood Talon: I was not shaking.  
Razer: Yes you were.  
The Blood Talon: I wasn't!  
Razer: Whatever you think, then.  
Razer: …Your friend's laptop appears to have a webcam._

Hwoarang's eyes drifted to the top of the screen. He blinked.

_The Blood Talon: So it does.  
You have offered Razer to watch your webcam.  
Razer has accepted your invite.  
Razer has offered you to watch his/her webcam.  
You have accepted Razer's invite._

He waved.

_The Blood Talon: Hi._

She waved back.

_Razer: Hello.__  
Razer: Oh, bed time hm?  
__The Blood Talon: Yeah.  
The Blood Talon: Light's out is in like… 5 minutea  
The Blood Talon: minutes  
The Blood Talon: Fuck, this is such a small keyboard. -.-  
Razer: Haha.  
The Blood Talon: You're looking good.  
The Blood Talon: If you were a video game, I'd give you ten outta ten for graphics ;)  
Razer: XDDDDD!  
Razer: Corny much?  
The Blood Talon: :D  
The Blood Talon: Don't flip out or anything but you've got nipple stag._

She looked down at herself before covering her breasts.

_The Blood Talon: Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww D:  
Razer: Perv.  
The Blood Talon: You still love me ;)  
Razer: Haha.  
Razer: If we're going to play this game…  
Razer: It is apparent to me that you have a hard on.  
The Blood Talon: Firstly, I don't. Secondly, if I did, you wouldn't be able to see it because of how I'm holding the laptop.  
The Blood Talon: Thirdly, why've you been lookin'? –wiggles eyebrows-  
Razer: XDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD  
The Blood Talon: Lol._

He heard footsteps.

_The Blood Talon: Gotta jet.  
The Blood Talon: Tis lights out.  
Razer: And you're abiding by the rules?  
The Blood Talon: Totally.  
The Blood Talon: Night.  
Razer: Goodnight._

* * *

The next day came and left swiftly, giving the people their final night here.

"**The point of this camp is to provide you with high school advice, and even career advice as you leave this middle school,**" the head teacher remarked, looking down at them all, moving back his long, grey hair, "**But that is not all we want to give you. We want to give you a good time, so that you can remember that school doesn't always have to be about study. So the camp here as provided you with a small disco.**"

"**Groovy!**" a random worker yelled from the back, as though he was dared to by his fellow workers.

"**Watch your tongue, Anavel,**" the teacher hissed, before turning to the rest of the group, "**So please, make use of this. Have fun everyone. Be mature.**"

Some people skittered off, following the head teacher, whilst others remained behind. Hwoarang, Shin Min and Changmin followed from the back, simply talking amongst themselves, bored with the entire idea but going along with it anyway. A few other people eventually joined their conversation, including Hyori, who cast occasional glances at the redhead.

And of course, gleeful little Shin noticed, and as always, adjusted his black baseball cap, pulling it down from the back (for it was on backwards. He thought it was 'cool'); and turned to Changmin, "**So, I'm not dancing. What about you?**"

"**Hell no.**"

He grinned at his cousin, noticing how the pair were now talking behind them. He leant in and murmured, "**What should we do then? Should we play spin the bottle or something? Seven minutes in heaven? Because if you look behind us right now, you'll see that Miss Kwon is all over our wolf, and he likes it.**"

Changmin took a quick look before smirking and redirecting his attention to the front, "**If we play seven minutes in heaven, where are we gonna stick 'em? The kitchen? **_**Hello? **_**Think of your ideas next time.**"

"**We could go back to the dorms… They have closets…**" he grinned, "**You'd know, of course -**"

He ignored the latter half of the sentence, "**Great idea.**"

And so, he announced the idea to the people who lagged behind.

* * *

The bottle, the dictator of the wicked game, soon stopped spinning. It landed on him.

And it started again, picking his partner. And then it stopped on her.

And he froze.

Hyori's eyes seemingly lit up, and he was unaware of whether or not his did too, but he knew his mouth was dry. He hurriedly looked to his friends for help, narrowing his eyes at them, but they did nothing and simply ushered the two of them into the closet, reiterating the rules to the pair of them. Soon enough, the walls close in around them, and they are sealed in.

Hwoarang swore he could heard snickering on the other side of the door. He turned away from the woman in the cupboard and placed two hands on the door, feeling around for the job, trying to find it to open it again, even if it was now locked. He stopped in frustration and glanced at her from the corner of his eyes, subconsciously licking his lips, trying to keep them wet and moist.

Hyori misunderstood the reason of such a small action, and she in turn imitated him, leaning against the wall of the cupboard, one arm pressed firmly against her hip. This was what she wanted, and she knew he wanted this too. Her eyes trailed up and down his obviously sculpted form, something she had battled against and seen a multitude of times first hand; and she wondered for a brief moment, as her eyes climbed up his legs, whether or not his thighs were as firm as she liked to think.

"**Hwoarang…**" she murmured.

His head snapped up, facing her with wide eyes, and he forcibly furrowed his eyebrows, keeping his gaze directly on her face. The outfit she was wearing was unquestioningly attractive in his eyes, but he didn't need to stare at her shapely legs or the obvious endowments that were struggling to be concealed behind her low, purple v-neck shirt. Anxiously, he adjusted his goggles on his head, pushing them back slightly.

She pushed herself off of the wall and strolled over to him, ensuring the proximity she deserved of him. The cupboard was surprisingly large, but it didn't seem all that large when they were finally face to face. She lowered her eyes slightly, watching as his darted around, as though thinking; but about what? This is what he wanted, she knew that. She knew.

If he wouldn't move, then she would.

Hyori grabbed the front of his shirt viciously, before pulling him closer to her. She shut her eyes tightly, and pressed her lips to his firmly; and as expected, she did not meet resistance, though she was surprised that he didn't move. She let go of his shirt and snaked her hands up into his hair, kissing him again and again and again, and she felt _victorious, _because she had _won._

And whilst there was a sense of joy for him, something else weighed him down heavily. Hwoarang realised that this wasn't what he wanted.

He pushed her away gently and opened his eyes, wiping the saliva off on the back of his arm, and looked at her firmly, the knowledge finally confirmed in his heart as well as his mind, "**I don't want this, Hyori. I'm sorry, but I don't like you. I'm flattered, but I'm truly sorry. You're not the girl for me.**"

Her eyes widened slightly, before they narrowed again, "**You **_**do **_**like me, Blood Talon. I can see it now, you're only hurting yourself by rejecting **_**me. **_**The lone wolf dared to come closer to me, and I reached out because I cared enough to help, and now you're biting my outstretched hand? You didn't reject **_**any **_**of my advances until **_**now, **_**in the moment. I understand you're shocked, and I'm probably the first girl you've ever liked, but we can make this work.**"

Offended, he hissed, "**The lone wolf dared to come closer to you to get away from another. And now he realises that he's going the wrong way, and runs back to **_**her; **_**and to keep himself away from **_**you, **_**he snarls, he doesn't bite. **_**I thought **_**I liked you. But I don't. You're not the first girl I've ever liked, so stop thinking of yourself in such a way. This ego doesn't suit you.**"

She cast an accusing finger at him, "**If this is some type of wicked game to **_**test **_**me to be 'worthy' of you, in your sick and twisted mind, then I will **_**not **_**back down until I have **_**won. **_**And I will tell you this now, Hwoarang, I am a **_**sore loser.**_"

She moved towards him again, only to be pushed back just a little less gently than before, "**Listen here, Kwon. You and I are going to stand in this closet in silence for the remaining few minutes, then walk out and return to the game, or alternatively leave and go to sleep. And that's it. Nothing else is gonna happen, so don't even try. I've declared my feelings to someone else, and I will stand by that.**"

"**You're a fool, Doo San!**" Hyori howled, half-screaming, half-sobbing, and she was sure the others could hear.

Hwoarang smirked a little, before realising exactly how much the other girl in question meant to her. He breathed in firmly, taking in as much air as possible, before leaning back against the wall behind him, his hands behind his head, awaiting his freedom from the wicked game, because he may have failed the match, but he passed his own little test.


	19. Eyes of the Devil

_If it is in _normal _style, then it is speech.  
If it is in italics, then it is thought.  
If it is in __**bold,**__ then it is the individual's natural tongue.  
If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil.

* * *

_

Author's Note: Amberrr, here chu r. I hope you can think soon. XD

Author's Note 2: Apparently this chapter isn't showing up unless its in "preview"... BUT IT WAS THERE THIS MORNING AND THE NIGHT BEFORE!? I don't know what is going on so, I'm reuploading it because FFN said it was an outdated URL, or something -_-;;

* * *

_**Chapter Nineteen: Eyes Of The Devil **_

His return home wasn't what he had expected. Throughout the boring bus journey, he envisioned a grinning Baek and a happy Razer, both waiting at the door. He would walk off the bus and see them, and he would be uplifted from the difficult events that had transpired the night before. And then he would cross the road and be enveloped in a bone-crushing hug by the foreigner, and a soft 'welcome home' would be murmured in his ear.

It didn't happen that way.

Hwoarang jumped off the bus, anger still brewing deep in his belly. He thereafter turned, hoping to see them, but he didn't. The door was slightly open, and for a moment he was worried of a break in, but then he realised that it had been purposely left open for him; and if there was a break in anyway, they would've been taken care of in under a minute, considering Baek's skills. He crossed the road with his head down, watching the pavement move in a blur below him, before the gutter came into his view, and then the footpath, and then the pathway.

He pushed the door open wholly, storming in with his bags, before closing it forcefully with his foot. A resounding bang jolted him a little, but he ignored it anyway and charged down the long corridor, passing through the training area of the dojang and into the living space. The television hummed gentle music not of this land, and he squinted for a moment to see that the occupant standing by the glass door, which led to the back veranda, had been watching the Eurovision Song Contest show before assuming his current position.

Furrowing his eyebrows further, he took a few steps forward before moving his head around the body of Baek, wondering what he was looking at. He found her sitting underneath the cherry tree, her back against the fence, half curled up, her chin on her knees. Razer appeared peaceful in position, but judging by the look on her face, she was restless at heart, and the 15-year-old soon realised that he didn't like the sight at all.

Gently placing his bags behind the sofa, he strolled over and stood beside Baek, watching the scene in front of him. He spoke up, his voice still possessing a hint of anger, but he tried his hardest to hide it, "**What's going on?**"

"**She's troubled. Can't you see that? Or are you blind?**" he muttered, annoyed.

"**I'm not stupid, I can see that, fuck…**"

"_**Language, **_**kid.**"

"**Do you know what happened?**"

"**No.**"

A small smirk appeared on his face, "**I'll fix it.**"

"**She's been like this since you left,**" Baek remarked, "**And I wonder why.**"

Hwoarang ignored the sly statement, turning into the kitchen. Figuring to bait her with something, he soon found a chocolate bar (to his surprise. Normally she devoured them like some type of machine), and closed the cupboard door, thereafter passing his mentor and heading outside. He ripped the door open, ignoring the squeal of the hinges, and closed it behind him, muttering to his himself under his breath, "**I'll fix it.**"

Her head snapped up, and her face became void of all emotion when she saw him, as though to defend herself. He already had her attention, even as he jumped down the measly three steps and crossed the growing grass. He donned on an emotionless visage as well, because he was trying to be the strong one in this situation, for once, as opposed to the feeble one.

_In moments of weakness… like this… you were always stronger than me._

And he believed it.

He stopped a few feet away from her, eyes locked with hers. He smiled a little, happy to be home, before forcibly taking it away. With a small, almost unnoticeable breath, he threw the bait at her, and hoped that she'd bite as it landed by her side. She watched it soar and fall, and stared at it for a moment, as though contemplating either taking it or ignoring it. He hoped for the former rather than the latter, and as he thought this, he realised he had been holding his breath, awaiting for her approval of the offering.

The Greek tentatively took it with her right hand and peeled away the plastic, biting into the chocolate, before looking straight ahead of herself once more, just like she had been when Hwoarang arrived home. Her mind wandered again, even as he came to sit down next to her, looking at her, waiting for her to just say _something. Anything._

"I missed you," she said.

He smiled, "Missed you too."

She grinned slightly in return, turning her head slightly to face him, "I was _so bored._ I almost died of boredom."

"Because I'm _so _entertaining."

Razer chuckled a little. His deadpan deliveries were always amusing. She looked down at her snack, before looking to the boy next to her. The grin expanded a little, and she pointed the bar towards him, "Thanks for this. Would you like a bite?"

He responded with action, leaning forward and taking a bite of it for himself as opposed to ripping off a piece. Chewing on it, he saw her laughing a little, and he realised that whatever was disturbing her, for now, was in the back of her mind. He was a temporary solution, and whilst he longed to make it more permanent, he knew that everything would be alright for a while, and he was happy with that.

"Hwoarang, you know I had taken a bite of that, right? You could catch my germs."

"If I've been here…" he murmured, raising a hand, running a finger along her lips. He didn't miss the shudder, even as he pulled away and then pointed at the chocolate bar, "…then I obviously have no problems whatsoever with being _here_ after you've bitten it."

She laughed, embarrassed and blushing. His job done, Hwoarang turned away and leant back, arms behind his head. His sienna eyes hovered over towards the door, where he saw Baek turning away, shaking his head with a small smile on his face. He was obviously returning to the television, and just in time too, because he wanted complete privacy with his best friend.

Razer shuffled closer to him, unsure of what to do, and took another bite of the chocolate, staring straight ahead of herself again, getting absorbed in her thoughts. Ever since that kiss, she had been lost in its memory. If their level of friendship had escalated to that level… if he has told her his most personal, painful secret of his parents' murder… then surely, she could, _she should _return the information… somehow. And unlike him, she had two options – her parents, or the devil within.

Devil had spent the last two days trying to have her host keep _both _of them secret. Hwoarang didn't need to know, and in her opinion, he wasn't close enough to know, let alone care. The kiss, she insisted, meant 'absolutely nothing, and that is how it is going to stay, _monster'_. Devil's smirk remained in her mind, even as she weighed the reasoning for both. If she told him of her parents, then he'd understand why she refused to go home. If she told him of Devil, then a great burden would be lifted off of her shoulders, and she could at least confide in _someone… _

And she wanted that someone to be him.

On the other hand, if she were to tell him of her family matters, then he would need to find out about the devil within regardless. She would have to reveal _both _secrets as opposed to one, and that would be an immense toll on her. To have double the pressure was hard, and she was determined to lower this, because both were still painful, and the wounds were still fresh. She would have to face him sometime.

And so she decided, crushing up the wrapper in her hand, that the eyes of the devil would no longer be hidden.

Once her decision was made, the Greek faded back into reality, listening to her friend chatter on, "And it was pretty stupid. She was following me after that, thinking that she could 'get me' or whatever. I don't know why all the guys are so fucking focused on Hyori, she's not who she seems… kinda like Tae-Yang was, y'know? I wouldn't be surprised if they are… or were or had been or whatever, together at one point."

She nodded a little, slipping the wrapper into her pocket.

Hwoarang finally snapped. He turned to look at her wholly, just as she turned to look at him. He spoke first, "What is _wrong _with you? I mean, I get you're not all sunshine happy and shit because I'm home, I guess, or whatever; but the least you could do is tell me what the fuck's bothering you so I can help you out like I'm supposed to."

"I am… an obligation?"

He twitched and smacked his head, sighing thereafter, "No, that's not what I meant. I'm here by choice. Look, just tell me what's bothering you. Baek said you've been quiet since I left. Is it me? Is it something I did – was it the kiss?" When she said nothing, he spoke again, watching her head drop, as though she was becoming intimidated by his frustration. He took her silence as a 'yes', "Look, okay, fine, I get it, I won't do it again. Is that what you want?"

"No!" she growled finally, narrowing her eyes, looking up at him, "I never said that!"

Hwoarang's frustration subsided slightly. Unease crawled into his heart. Not knowing what else to do, he looked down at her and took one of her hands, squeezing it a little, "Okay, nice to know we've got an actual dialogue going at the moment. Now, let's keep it going, and to start things off, you're going to tell me what's going on in that little, busy mind of yours – you know, the one that's never off because it's always thinking about stuff? Share it with me."

Yes, child, Devil taunted, taking reverse psychology on the matter, Tell him of me. Tell him of how you are not all you say you are, tell him of how a _beast _haunts you day in, day out, and how you will _never _be rid of me… And that even if you portray your feelings to him, and they're accepted, that I will _always _be in this picture, and I will _always _control you. Your every movement, your every thought, your every _want _will be _mine… _and the thought of me is _eternal._

She trembled in her place, curling up again, and for a moment she swore she could feel tears tickle her eyes. She brought her other hand to her face and placed it squarely in the centre, pushing her thumb and middle fingers against her temples to try and relieve the stressful strain that the monster was putting her through. She had a terrible headache, and it wasn't getting any better, especially with the nerves bubbling up inside of her stomach, stinging like poisonous acid.

He remained silent, waiting, _I'd armour your heart if you'd just let me in…_

Despair, Athane. Despair your secrets, and hate yourself.

And she opened her mouth, successfully holding in the tears, and looked up at him, her vision clear of her hand. Her voice shook violently, and she saw slight relief flash across Hwoarang's face, but it only lasted for a moment, because he knew that the next words that were to come out of her mouth were going to be even stronger than a blow to the face, curtesy of his Master; and he held his breath until she said, "I am a demon."

The Korean furrowed his eyebrows for a moment, answering carefully, "No you're not."

"I am," Razer answered firmly. It was too late to back down now.

"Don't be stupid," he chortled, dismissing it entirely, "Shit like that doesn't exist. How can you see yourself that way?"

"I do not 'see' myself in such a manner… because _I know _what I am," she brought her free hand up, and clenched it into a fist, pressing it against her thudding heart, "_I know _what I am, _I know _who is inside of me, and she haunts me, like a ghost…" she faltered and closed her eyes, looking down, "I am who I am. And I am a demon. I am an empty shell, and she dances inside of it, pushing me away… breaking me. Taking me away from myself.

"I hear her, even now…" she winced at the accusations, "'You are a fool for telling him, Athane…' and I shouldn't have, but I had to, because… Because… A-and now, she says 'How much more bloodshed must I do before you realise that _you cannot win?'_" she shuddered suddenly and choked, reiterating the new sentence, "'Do I have to take him from you too?'" she looked up at him, bottom lip trembling, "My eyes… if… if I could show you her red eyes… I would, but I can't… You have to believe me. I have told you no lies, Hwoarang… Why would I tell you now? Does it even _look _like I am?"

The Greek clenched his hand a little harder, hoping to spur some type of life in him. The state of him in this moment invoked fear, and she did not like it. She once knew how to deal with fear, but having been in such a wonderful, carefree environment for so long… she had forgotten how to deal with it, and right now, the fear was crawling around her body, paralysing everything. It felt as though she forgot to breathe while she waited for an answer, or a hand squeeze, or a slight nod, or another dismissing statement or –

_N-no… Not this… _she choked, _Please, not this…_

Hwoarang hesitantly dropped her hand, and as he did, she felt everything inside of her break. She brought her hand closer to her body, her fingers curling inward. She watched as he stood, his eyes still not leaving hers, and she tried so hard to summon that blood colour, if only to prove her point and not have him think of her has insane; but really, judging by the look on his face, the look that flashed across his eyes, it was probably far too late for that.

"Hwoarang…"

He turned away from her and retreated to the privacy of his room, unaware of being followed by the eyes of the devil.

* * *

The hours passed like days, and the days passed like years.

He lay stiff in his bed, lying on his back, eyes intently staring at the ceiling. Both of Hwoarang's hands remained perched on his stomach as he mulled over the conversation in his mind. It had only occurred a week or so ago, and he felt sick just thinking about it. He wanted to talk to Baek about it and see what he made of the situation, but he feared that by opening his mouth about the situation to someone else, it would make the entire thing much worse, even if it was to the wisest person he knew.

"_I am a demon."_

"_No you're not."_

"_I am."_

"_Don't be stupid. Shit like that doesn't exist."_

Or did shit like that exist seriously exist?

The world was full of many tales. Swords from the past dominated them, only to be replaced with the firearms of today. Whimsical magic was the mystical thing back then, where as nowadays, it was more along the lines of machinery, in all their glory, either combined with human beings or simply standing alone. The creatures of today? He didn't know, but of the past, there were many. Werewolves, griffins, druids, the ever popular dragon… and demons.

What is to say that the records passed down from generation to generation were true once upon a time? In a time he would never recognise, what's to say that the words were really fact, and that over time, they were just… generally not believed anymore? That they were fairytales made to scare the children into bed, because they were far too interested in the outside world? That they were myths to scare their soldiers into line, before sending them off into some battle they would probably never win?

He didn't doubt her statement, it just stunned him and caught him completely off guard, and it even frightened him a little. From the start, he could tell that she was indeed telling the truth. Something that worked Razer up into such a state would've have to have been true. Tales of the old King Of Iron Fist Tournaments still haunted his mind, and he remembered a gravely serious look on Baek's face as he told him of Kazuya Mishima.

From what he remembered, he was a true martial arts prodigy. He won the first tournament, defeating his Father to do so, and he was the one who had organised the second King Of Iron Fist Tournament. Those who had joined this tournament, for whatever personal reason, immediately found his aura to be intimidating, so much so that Baek himself avoided the Japanese man at all costs. He was eventually brought down by him, and every strike was brutal, painful, and merciless. He still had a scar on his hip from one of Kazuya's punishing blows.

"_He reminded everyone of a demon," Doo San hummed, leaning back in his chair. He struggled to look at his young student, for the memories were so fresh; but he tried anyway, even if he eventually broke his gaze and looked out the window again, "But some thought he was misunderstood, like Jun, a friend I made at the tournament. She wanted to save him, and when I asked him from what, she merely replied 'from himself.' I still don't understand what she meant._

"_She saw the angel in him. Behind that cruel, iron exterior was a broken man, clinging onto the last shards of his human self… and she burst through his defences, and began to help him to his feet. I remember when they first met…" he shook his head, "Kazuya lashed out at her, but she kept trying. His attack was feral, but it did not deter her – and it was just casually in the corridors of the hotel. Pretty ridiculous, if you ask me, but nonetheless._

"_She would look into his eyes when everyone else turned away. The freaky thing about Kazuya is he had this glowing, red eye. This one," he pointed to his left eye, "it was red all the time, and it intimidated so many people. But it did not scare her. Jun is truly an interesting individual. She is brave and selfless, all the time; I only wish there were more people like her to reach out to those who needed it… because Kazuya needed it. He might not want to admit it, but he needed it badly, and she gave it to him. She saved him from being torn apart from the inside, by his inner demon and his inner angel. Whatever happened to Kazuya since the tournament… I'm sure he's better."_

Hwoarang swallowed, as he pieced together the two conversations more so.

" – _he had this glowing, red eye."_

"_My eyes… if… if I could show you her red eyes… I would, but I can't…"_

Were the eyes a… sign? Or a connection? He didn't understand.

With a heavy sigh, he rolled over and placed a limp hand against the wall between them.

* * *

She kept mostly to herself now, angry that she bothered to open her mouth about something so sensitive and touchy, only to have it backfire in her face. But she wasn't angry at him, no no; Razer was infuriated at herself for thinking that he cared. Surely the way he treated her, the way that he made her feel was a show of his care, but obviously not, and it hurt. She spent the passing, long days reading outside, trying to take herself away from the cruel reality she was ebbed in.

This sentence has a spelling error, Devil noted, chuckling in amusement.

She ignored her and turned over to the next page, still reading. She had been outside the entire day, and had avoided the people inside in an attempt to calm herself, and allow Hwoarang time to absorb the new information. To her surprise, however, she had found him trying to come close to her and interact with her again, but after he would take the first step or so to towards her, he would back off and return to whatever he was doing previously. That's to say, he wasn't sure what to say or how to interact.

The fact that he kept leaving frightened her. Would he leave like everyone else did?

No no, Razer, no… He won't leave you… because _you _will be leaving him. You will be evicted from this household. Wait and see.

The Greek immediately snapped her book shut, jolting from the devil within's statement, and exhaled firmly. The noise of the closing book drew the attention of Hwoarang, who had been watching tv inside and deliberately sitting on the far end of the couch to keep an eye on her. He frowned sadly, watching as she threw the book to the other side of the veranda, her fists clenching and her shoulders tensing thereafter.

_I am alone… _she growled with a sigh, _And I am hating every minute of it._

Well, get used to it Athane, because this is how it will be for the rest of your miserable life. You will be forever alone, where as the rest of the world will enjoy the company of others, and you will loathe them all. You will turn against them one day.

She curled up slightly before resting her head against the window.

He stood up, dressed fully in his dobuk for training in a few minutes, and walked over towards the window, peering down on the youth. Her eyes were closed, and her eyebrows were pressed together, as though she was trying to repress something like a memory or words. He gingerly placed a hand on the window, thereafter resting his forehead against it, and watched her for a little longer, wondering what to do.

He held his breath when she opened her eyes, and he saw red for a brief, flickering moment before they returned to their normal green colour. He bit his lip, thereafter clenching his hand on the window, and pushed himself off immediately, heeding the call of Baek telling him it was time for training and to leave her alone to her thoughts so she could sort herself out; and for a moment, he felt more afraid than angered or saddened. After all, this was a _demon _they were dealing with here. She was asking him to accept a _demon._

As he turned away, he heard Razer scramble to her feet and run to catch him. He deliberately walked at a normal pace, coming towards the long corridor that would eventually lead to where the other students were waiting. He could see Baek turning away, walking down, his face determined to put aside his own personal thoughts and feelings, and focus on the task at hand. He wished he could do the same, but he found it harder to do so than his master.

She caught his arm. He froze in place and did not say anything, because he knew she had something to say.

Soon enough, his arm was enveloped in her arms as opposed to one hand. She was hugging it tightly, as though trying to keep him in place and not have him run away any further, even though he was currently needed elsewhere. He couldn't see her, but he could feel her shuddering breath and her hesitance to speak; and when she did, it her voice trembled, and it was feeble, "Please… Stay with me… Don't abandon me like everyone else did."

"…I never would."

Her grip tightened, even as he finally turned to look at her, his eyes roaming her face. She smiled a little at him, and in return he smiled back, before it faded away. She muttered something along the lines of 'thank you', though he could barely hear it due to its quietness. His mind raced as he tried to think of something to say or do, and eventually, something came to mind as he pulled away from her grasp, because he had to go. He began to walk, talking still.

"I'll come back when training's done. And when it is, we'll sit outside and we'll talk about this, okay?"

"Thank you," she repeated, her voice a little louder than when she murmured it against his shoulder.

Hwoarang stopped and looked over his shoulder, staring at Razer for a moment before having his gaze focus on the wall opposite him, "Thank you for telling me."

They parted ways.

* * *

By the time he returned, the sun was beginning to set over the horizon. It was poised behind the cherry tree, illuminating the leaves in a bright, crimson glow. The breeze passed over the area silently, and they moved in accordance with it, and continued to be the object of Razer's attention, until Hwoarang cleared his throat, announcing his arrival.

She turned her head, seeing him stand there in jeans, his long-sleeved, maroon shirt, and of course, his beloved goggles. The ends of his hair were wet, indicating that he had just come from the shower. She watched as he lowered himself next to her, his back propped up against the wall, his legs propped up, "Baek's gone grocery shopping, so you don't have to worry about him eavesdropping and whatever. How're you feeling?"

"Nervous," she answered, subconsciously bouncing her leg.

"Mm. Well… Let's start with the basics. What's its name?"

"…Name…?"

I have no name. I am the eternal thought in the bleeding hearts of men. The names that humanity have given to me are numerous in amount and buried deep in their cultures and languages. I have a thousand names, and each are terrifying; and I am nameless, for I have no use for a name. I am Abaddon. I am Beelzebul. I am Lucifer, I am Satan, I am _all _of those things. But no matter the name, I am the same, and you will all meet the same end.

Athane shuddered noticeably and curled up, "She does not have one. She says that there is no use for one."

"So you just call her 'Devil' or something?"

"Pretty much…"

"How old is she?"

"'I am eternal', she says."

"How long have you had her?"

"All of my life, apparently… but she only made herself known when I arrived here."

"What does she look like?"

"I… don't know what her 'true' form looks like, but… she takes on my form and adds her own changes to it. Like… Two large horns… from the side of my head," she pointed to them hesitantly, moving her hair out of the way to do so. She looked straight ahead as she did, afraid to meet his gaze and fully aware that he was observing. Her fingers curled thereafter, "Claws… Strange, black markings with this a jewel in the middle of my head… And two, large, feathery black wings. And red eyes. The eyes of the devil are crimson red, like blood."

And it is painful, the entire transformation, Devil quipped with a sneer.

Hwoarang reached over and took her hand, pulling it away from her head gently. He shuffled a little closer, inspecting her right temple, eventually finding hints of scars from where the horns would've protruded. He winced and bit his lip lightly, trying hard to maintain an objective stance on the new information. He looked away and pulled her hand over towards him, looking around her nails, where he could also see smaller scars for the claws to form; and as he looked, he could feel her shaking.

She moved her hand away, and was surprised when his followed, clasping her own firmly, before bringing it back down between them, and it was here Razer realised that the Blood Talon was trying to offer comfort and support. His other hand snaked to her back, hesitating for a moment. She spoke, "The scars aren't directly in the middle of my back. They are on either side of my spine. You can touch them if you want."

Nodding slightly, he slid his hand underneath her shirt and ascended, feeling along her skin until he found two, vertical bumps. He run a thumb along each of them, shuddering a little, before taking his hand away entirely, murmuring, "They feel really… strange. Does it hurt when they come out?"

"They tear from my body and rip open my skin, of course it would hurt…"

"Has she killed anyone?"

"Yes…"

"Who?"

"I… don't know. When… when she takes over, I do not know what goes on around me. It is as though I am asleep… She does things, but I don't really know what…" she swallowed, "When… When you told me that Tae-Yang was bad for me… that little disagreement we had… and when I walked out to clear my head? She did it, not me… She controlled my body and forced me outside, so she could be free, so she could be in the flesh again instead of just in my mind… I do not know what happened after that, but… when I came to… I was in an alley with blood on my hands… I knew, I could _smell _the death… And I started to go home when that police officer found me."

He winced again, "Well, it's not your fault. She did it, not you."

"Yeah. I know. If I wander off in the future, it is because of her, not because I want to leave."

"What else does she do?"

"She has super senses. Not all of them, just scent as far as I know at the moment. I can smell all sorts of things, even if the scent is days old. She likes to bring me down and tell me that I was never wanted by my family. Her general aim in life is to just break me down so she can take over me… and keep it that way. She likes to tell me that nobody cares… and that nobody ever will."

"Well, she's wrong."

Razer lifted her head and looked to him, "She's wrong?"

"She's wrong. It's wrong to tell you all of those things, especially when it's not true."

"Mm…" If only he knew about her Father.

"Baek cares about you. He let you stay here with us, he trains you, he feeds you, he clothes you, he makes sure you learn, he keeps a roof over your head… He treats you like you're his own daughter, like… like he treats me like his son, even though we're not related. You might not be with your family back home, but you have a family here, with us. We're small and whatever, and we're probably strange, but we still care. He cares. I care about you, _a lot_." _More than I should._

The Greek said nothing, "Are you just telling me these things to end the conversation…?"

"No. I'm telling the truth, because you deserve the truth, and because I want to tell you…" he looked down to their hands, and placed his free one on top of the two of them, "I know I've come off as an asshole when we were younger, I know that I don't go about things the right way, I know it seems like I don't care about anyone but myself, but you know that I don't mean it… I… have trouble expressing affection and appreciation and shit."

Devil inwardly raised her eyebrows, This is going somewhere _interesting._

He cleared his throat, "And, I just wanted to say that I… I…" _Come on, Hwoarang… Just say it…_

But he just couldn't do it.

"…I do care. A lot, okay? You're… you're my best friend. And I always will be, even if the world turns its back on you. If there's no one in front of you, because everyone left, or because… because something insanely stupid has happened, all you have to do is look over your shoulder, because I'm there covering your back. And pressed back to back, I'm going to stay there to protect and help you, just like you've done for me. I promise."

She smiled wholeheartedly, "I promise the same."

Hwoarang smiled, "Thanks. Oh, by the way… Uh…"

"Mm?"

"Promise never to keep anything from me, alright? Doesn't matter how stupid it is. If you need to tell me that someone's coming to kill me, then do it. If my fly's open and I need to know about it, tell me. Just anything like that. That way we'll understand each other better. Sounds fair?"

"Sounds fair."

"I won't keep anything from you either."

"Okay."

"Starting right now. Your face is as red as my hair."

"And you think your appearance is any better?"

He grinned.


	20. Under the Rose

_If it is in _normal _style, then it is speech.  
If it is in italics, then it is thought.  
If it is in __**bold,**__ then it is the individual's natural tongue.  
If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil.

* * *

_

Author's Note: Yet another 'snail's pace' update. Why? Cuz I have writer's block for this story again. Not for others though which is good. I'm trying really hard though. Expect delays to be once a month or so, because now you're only five chapters behind where I'm writing. Regardless. Enjoy this chapter. Sei Honou will love this, as will any other fluff-lover XD

* * *

_**Chapter Twenty: Under The Rose**_

With that promise, she knew she belonged here.

She still had a family back home. Her grandparents on both sides of her family still lived and breathed. One side would probably give the world to make sure she was still alive, whilst the other would not care at all. One side shielded her from the horrors of home, whilst the others seemingly _encouraged _the actions. She was loved by one side, and hated by the other, but everything about home brought back those painful memories that made her stomach twist and turn.

That is why she decided to stay here, with the two of them. Many times she had thought about returning home, if only to tell the grandparents that _cared _that she was okay and alive, but… she just couldn't. She couldn't even fathom returning to Greece, and whilst she was disappointed by that fact, she was still okay with it. She knew it would be a long time before she could set foot into her country again. She knew it would take a long time for her wounds to heal, but it didn't stop her from trying; and by being in the company of two wonderful and caring men… she knew she'd be alright. She'd be alright.

Many months had passed. They flew by, almost unnoticed. All three individuals were happy. The two students had recently (and _finally_) gotten their black belts, much to the joy of their master, and Hwoarang was even looking for a job now, if only to destroy his growing boredom, because 'band practice' with the boys wasn't doing enough. Razer began to learn to read Hangul, despite the difficulty, because she wanted to get a job too and help Baek out, because the students who came to his dojang for lessons were dwindling in amount.

Currently, it was early in February, and training was coming to a close. The cold chill of winter still lingered, making the occupants uncomfortable, but they dealt with it regardless. Shin Min and Changmin were waiting in the living area, playing a card game called 'Snap' (which Shin Min had discovered by talking to some of his overseas friends).

Their heads snapped up when their two friends stalked down the long corridor, shoving each other in a joking manner and throwing various playful quips back and forth, all the while grinning. The pair of Koreans on the floor knew that they had become much closer over the past few months, and even tried persuading Hwoarang to man up and ask the girl out. Of course, he would deny is feelings for her as always, but he was unaware of how obvious they were to the outside world. He wouldn't smile for anyone the way he smiled for her.

"Where have you been all my life?" he remarked, grinning.

"Hiding from you."

"Haven't I seen you someplace before?"

"Yes, that's why I do not go there anymore."

"So, what do you do for a living?"

"I'm a female impersonator."

"Your body is like a temple, you know."

"Sorry, there are no services today."

"Bitch…"

"You weren't saying that last night…"

Hwoarang shoved her lightly again, "Damn you."

She smiled and scratched the back of her head, something she had picked up from the Blood Talon. In their time together, she had become a little more open and extroverted to other people, and even begun picking up on some of his gestures (and visa versa), such as scratching the back of her head. She even began to talk a little more animatedly, her hands moving every so often. Deep down, she was still introverted, but around those who she knew, she wasn't so silent anymore.

"**Something happened last night huh?**" Shin grinned, leaning back against the wall. His eyes briefly flickered over to his cousin, who was lying on his stomach on the floor.

"_**No,**_" Hwoarang sniped, "**So you can just shut up right there and move aside so we can play.**"

He took a seat, thereafter looking up at Razer, patting the space beside him. She lowered herself and rested on her stomach, taking a few cards from the deck for herself, ready to play the game. She was already familiar with how to play. Hwoarang, though, didn't know as much, so as the game progressed further and further, he was much more cautious and asked a lot more questions, much to the annoyance of Shin Min, but he got over it eventually.

To everyone's surprise, Changmin emerged victorious, and thus he chose the next game for them to play. He happily settled on no game whatsoever ("**What?! You just want us to sit here and **_**chat!?**_" Shin had exclaimed), feeling that their time apart had damaged their friendship. With the cousins at school and the other two constantly at home, they didn't interact as much as they used to, save for an email here and there, and it was nobody's fault but… life's. Because people simply drifted apart through time.

"**So… eh… How's school?**" the Blood Talon inquired, bored.

"**Dude, don't get me started,**" Shin sighed, smacking his head into the floor deliberately, "**I hate it.**"

"**I'm enjoying it actually,**" Changmin stated.

"**That's because you're a nerd,**" Shin growled.

"**Compared to you, maybe. How's life at home, Hwoarang?**"

Hwoarang lazily waved his hand, "**Boring. It's fun and all but boring at the same time.**"

Shin turned to Razer, "How are you?"

"Alright thank you," she answered, fiddling with the sleeve of her dobuk, "I heard a funny 'Yo Momma' joke the other day."

Shin's eyes widened. He loved 'Yo Momma' jokes, "Tell!"

Changmin followed suit, imitating his cousin, "Tell!"

Hwoarang, "Screw me!"

Razer furrowed her eyebrows, "…Immature fuck."

He grinned.

Shin's small smile suddenly turned sly, and the 'Yo Momma' joke was forgotten, even though it had not even been said. He turned to the Greek, "Got anyone for _Valentiiine's Day _yet?"

"No… I've never had a valentine, which I find a little upsetting, but no matter. I've never… wanted one, and no one has ever asked," she chuckled quietly and dryly, standing to her feet. Stretching a little, she turned away to go and have a shower, "And who would? I'm uninteresting, I'm just this… person. To the world, I'm just one person."

At that moment, Baek entered the room, passing her. He murmured to her as she passed him, "But to one person, you are the world."

She froze, realising that her teacher was possibly trying to drop a hint.

Look over your shoulder, mortal.

Razer did not conform, and continued on her way.

Baek smirked a little, looking at his two visitors, "**Shin, stop trying to set Hwoarang up with Razer.**"

"**I was doing no such thing!**" Shin cried, smirking.

"**Yes well, you're doing it wrong anyway.**"

Hwoarang hissed at them all, "**Shut the fuck up. All of you. **_**Now.**_"

"_**Language, **_**kid,**" Baek warned, turning into the kitchen to make a coffee.

"**Fuck you,**" he friendlily, yet teasingly spat in return.

"**Don't fucking swear,**" his master retorted half-heartedly, waiting for the water to boil.

Meanwhile, his other two friends returned to quarrelling amongst themselves, giving the Blood Talon time to think on his own. He ignored the various jabs at Changmin's sexuality, and when Changmin lashed out at his cousin for yet again calling him 'Changy'; and he didn't seem to realise Razer's return to the room, only this time she was sitting on the couch reading yet another book. He was too deep in his thoughts. Such surprising knowledge… No one? Really?

_She looked sad when she said that, _he noted, drumming his fingers on his knees, _Maybe I can do something about it._

* * *

The day had arrived, and he couldn't get rid of the nervous lump in his tightening throat. Doo San couldn't believe that his student was doing this, but he wasn't going to question his actions and simply wished him the best of luck. Hwoarang's mentor thereafter left the dojang at noon, going to meet with some friends and hang out at their homes.

It was currently one o'clock, and Razer still had not exited her room. He contemplated entering to see if she was asleep, but opted against it, fearing that such an intrusion would alter the outcome. With nothing else to do, he went outside to kick the soccer ball around, until she woke up. He pulled down the bottom of his favourite shirt, and ignored the slightly chilly weather that crawled all over his skin, summoning some goosebumps.

Half an hour passed, and he eventually heard water running. Realising that she was finally awake, he darted back inside and looked to his right, where the counter was, seeing an eaten bowl of cereal and an empty glass. Hurriedly, he placed them in the sink for washing later, and moved to his room again, grabbing the item off of his table that he had purchased earlier in the morning. With a nervous sigh, he moved back into the living room and rested his back against the wall, standing beside the back door. One foot was propped up, and his hands remained behind him.

The water stopped running. He breathed in hurriedly, nervous, and turned his head to the left, temporarily watching the television to try and distract himself. The volume was down, though he could still hear what was being said quite clearly, though its purpose was not achieved very well. He twisted the item in between his fingers, feeling it gently slide across his skin.

One footstep. Two footsteps. Three footsteps. Four footsteps. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven.

"Hwoarang?" Razer remarked warily, standing a few metres away from him.

His head snapped back towards her, and with the speed of the movement, he was worried that it became apparent that he was anxious. His mouth went dry, and his eyes widened slightly when he took in the sight before him, far different from what he was used to seeing. A dark green, long-sleeved silk shirt hugged her form, along with a long, black skirt that came to the middle of her calves (and he wondered for a moment when she got that particular item). She had simple, black sandals on her feet, and he felt his pride swell when the scarf he made for her rested happily around her throat. Her hair was still out, though some of it had been pulled back and held with an elastic band, causing a small ponytail to fall amongst the rest of the cascading strands.

_This is it. Now or never._

Still as silent as ever, he extended his right hand, the item in his hand, and pointed it towards her, the item on an angled tilt. He bit his tongue fiercely to try and keep him from cracking, and watched as surprise flashed across her face, followed by disbelief and what appeared to be delight. The latter of those had his lips curve into a slight smirk, which he fought to keep unnoticeable.

She walked towards him, still holding her breath, and plucked the white rose from his fingers.

_White… _she thought to herself, once she gained inner coherency. Athane stared at the piece, mesmerised by its beauty. The petals were smooth and untainted by age or human fingers. No wrinkling was apparent, and no one had fussed around with the individual petals, having it maintain its natural, curvy structure. Even the stem was in great condition.

She looked past the item, seeing Hwoarang gaze back.

"Why?" she asked, holding it close to her, "Why white?"

"Because," he answered, "you might house a demon… but you yourself, you're like that rose."

She looked down, her heart heaving, and she bit her lip to keep from saying or doing anything.

He pushed himself off of the wall and walked past her, not having the heart to face her, "You said… no one… had ever been your valentine. And I had a good, long think for a while… a good, long think. You deserve a valentine. You deserve to have a good time and stuff. I'm probably not the best candidate but, I'm offering myself anyway, if you'll have me for today," He span around entirely, surprised to see that she still had not turned around. With a casual shrug of his shoulders, he continued, "Maybe I can make today… not suck for you. Maybe I can make it fun."

Razer looked over her shoulder. He found it harder to talk now that he was being watched. He looked away.

"Maybe I can make it… happy."

She was oblivious to most of the world around her, and she couldn't care less. Not disguising the wide smile on her face, she slid by Hwoarang and into the kitchen area behind him. Standing on her toes, she pulled down an empty, purple vase, and hurriedly rinsed it out, thereafter filling it with water. She put it on the countertop and placed the rose in the vase.

And all the while, your little heart beats faster, as he stares into nothingness, scared. He's scared. Can you not smell it?

The Greek looked to the soon-to-be-16-year-old, finding that he had been watching her movements. Her smile widened uncontrollably, and the action invoked a smile of his own. Approaching him, she managed to get a sentence out, and there was no wobbliness in her voice, "You are full of surprises, you know that?"

"I try."

Her hand snaked up to his face, and she pressed her palm against his cheek, having his hand cover hers in return, "Where to?"

"Wherever you like."

* * *

The day so far had been the happiest one of her life, by far. She felt so uplifted by the transpiring events that she just couldn't ignore the pounding of her heart, and the wide smile upon her face. She was currently being led by the hand out of Seoul square, being taken to somewhere she didn't know about, and judging by the stern look on Hwoarang's face, it was a special location he had been saving until the afternoon.

Razer tightened her hand around his, feeling him gently squeeze back. She was taking every opportunity she could to be openly affectionate with him, if only for today, because she wanted to. She had been treated like his girlfriend, showered in his care, and she returned such actions. Still armed with a wide smile, she thought back on the day so far.

They took the bus down town, and from there strolled around aimlessly for a while, just talking casually. Hwoarang had spotted a few people from his old school, and after a slight wave to them, he'd ignore their surprised facial expressions, which were all to do with her. She was amused by this, and told him so when they decided to have lunch at an American diner. He paid for her meal, which she was surprised about. More chatting ensued, a vast amount of vibrant laughter reverberating through the area.

They then selected a random movie, one that was action packed… and in Korean, so of course, she had no idea what was being said. But that was okay, because the two of them made up their own storyline as it went along for fun (even though Hwoarang understood the movie). The 'made up' story was about a recovering war veteran who decided to go and blow people up as vengeance for his lost brother. Or something strange like that. She didn't really remember nor care.

After that, they went to a skating rink. They both donned on blade skates, and it was then that she admitted to him that she didn't know how to skate (though was always interested in learning), and was worried that she would fall over and hurt herself – something she indeed didn't want. Remembering that moment, she smiled.

"_It's alright," he said, "I won't let you fall."_

Once she got the hang of it, she did well on her own. Her legs still felt a bit wobbly, not having skated before, though it was understandable as the event had only concluded twenty minutes ago. Unlike the last few hours, though, silence had fallen between them for the first time. She found it a little unsettling, but Athane figured that he was tired. She was as well.

Soon enough, a grassy, green hill appeared in the distance. It was a large hill, but far too small to be a mountain, and she noticed a small smile appeared on his face. This was their destination, she realised, upon seeing said grin, and when he picked up the pace. She followed, still holding onto his hand, a wide smile still there.

"This is the last place for today," Hwoarang remarked.

He obviously had planned the day, "Okay."

The ascent was draining, but the reward was revitalising, as the pair stood at the top of it, looking down on their part of the Seoul district. The people looked like ants, and for a moment, Razer swore she could see the dojang from all the way up here. The street lights were starting to turn on, for dusk was approaching, and it illuminated the streets in an eerie glow. The orange sun highlighted the sky the same colour, and the sphere itself was slowly falling beyond the horizon. Clouds streaked the sky, appearing to be pinkish in colour due to the sun.

"Hwoarang…"

"I knew you'd like it."

"It's amazing."

"Yeah," he sat down, leaning back on his forearms, staring out, "I come up here when I need to clear my head and stuff… Like after my parents' deaths, when you first came here… and so on… It's just… nice up here. Nice and quiet, it really takes the stress out of things, you know?"

She sat next to him, leaning towards one side, "So this is where you would cycle off to?"

"Yeah."

"I see."

Silence.

Razer looked down to her hands, "Thank you for today."

"Any time," he replied, lying on his back now, eyes closed.

"I mean it," she said, looking back to him.

"So did I."

She smiled again, observing his face. His skin was tainted a light orange, due to the setting sun, and he was clearly relaxed, his face slack and his lips slightly apart. His hair was splayed amongst the grass, sticking up here and there, almost in a bed-head sense. Unhesitant, she reached out and touched his cheek again, her thumb drifting back and forth across it.

Again, he leant into it, a small smile on his face, and his eyes were still closed. He stayed that way for a while, before opening his eyes, ignorant to the Greek's hitch in breath at his appearance. He was aware of her hesitance, though, and froze up himself when he felt fingertips drift from his cheek and to his lips. He remained motionless, heart thudding as she traced the outline of them, thereafter drifting back and forth, before moving to his hairline.

The relocation of her fingers had him relax noticeably. Hwoarang stretched a little and sat up, pulling his goggles off of his head, having them hang around his neck. Feigning tiredness and stretching once more, he settled back down again, this time resting his head on her thigh, using it as a makeshift pillow. He closed his eyes, smiling again, as she stroked his head, as though he were a cat (which he surprisingly enjoyed, sighing), and ran her fingers through his copper locks occasionally.

She looked away from him, still smiling, and gazed out to the fading scene below hair, shivering a little at the coming early evening winds. Tucking some of her brown hair behind her ear, she closed her own eyes and absorbed the feelings around her – the wind, the weight of the Korean's head, the feel of his hair between her fingers, and the contentment inside. And it was as she looked did she realise the depth of her care for the boy. She knew she liked him. She just didn't realise until now that… that…

* * *

When they stumbled into the dojang arm in arm, it was almost ten at night. They had eaten McDonalds for dinner, a quick and easy option, only a few hours or so ago, and merely chatted for their remaining time together. Hwoarang closed the door behind him gently, locking it thereafter, and slipped his keys back into his pocket. Rubbing his eye, he strolled into the living area, Razer following by his side, a hand gingerly resting upon his forearm.

They stopped walking when they came to the middle of the area, behind the couch and before the stools and kitchen bench. She released her hold on his arm and stood before him, gazing past him for a moment, noticing that the white rose and the vase was gone; and for a moment she assumed that Baek had relocated it to her room, but she didn't really care. She refocused on the boy before her and smiled wholeheartedly, watching as his own smile appeared.

She reached out to him and wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace, not wanting to let go, and said again, "Thank you for today."

He held her back, arms around her waist as opposed to her neck, and repeated, "Any time."

A few moments passed, before they pulled away, their arms still loosely around the other's form. Razer's fingers were locked behind his neck, and Hwoarang's arms hovered above her hips. Her eyes darted around, monitoring his expression, noticing that he was just as happy as she was, and was content with how the day panned out. He was watching her too, and suddenly became curious as to why her smile slipped off of her face, and as a consequence, his left too.

She pulled him closer and closed her eyes, noticing before she lost vision that he mirrored her actions, aware of what was to come; and kissed him, not as thanks, but because she wanted to, and she wouldn't miss today's opportunity to do so. The rest of her body stumbled forward a bit when she was pulled closer, bodies forcefully moulded against each other, and pulled away from their little exchange slightly, only to end up kissing him again, due to his actions.

_Don't lead, _the Blood Talon growled to himself, _This is your only chance._

But he wanted more.

It seemed she had the same wishes, because after she had pulled away for a brief breath, she still came back to him, and he wondered why she had done this. The most obvious reason eluded him, and even if the thought crossed his mind, he wouldn't have believed it because of his lack of self-belief. Warmth flooded through his body, drifting from his head to his toes, and his affection for the girl inflated with every passing second, even after they broke apart. It was so strong that he felt as though his heart would split open due to the weight of his emotions.

_Say something, _he hissed.

She smiled up at him, and his heart twisted fiercely, more so when her hands left his neck and drifted down his muscled arms, thereafter grabbing hold of his own hands, squeezing them tightly.

_Tell her._

"Goodnight, Hwoarang."

_Tell her!_

He couldn't, "Night, Raze."

She stepped away from him, still smiling, and turned away, slithering into her room. Biting her lip to contain some type of squeal, she closed the door behind her, thereafter resting her back against it; and looked up to the ceiling, ignoring the spiking pain in her lip from biting too hard, and the weakness in her legs. She felt like a cliché, like the whole scenario was one; but at least what she was feeling was real.

The Greek opened her eyes and allowed her head to drop, seeing the purple vase and the white rose rest on the small table next to her bed, just as she had suspected. Walking over and kicking off her shoes in the process, she sat on the bed and stared at it, _I love him._

With your heart under the rose.

Outside, Hwoarang span on his heels and wandered to the stools, going to sit on one. He fought to keep a straight face, but couldn't help it, and eventually lifted his arms onto the countertop and placed his head in the crook of his arm. He drummed his fingers on the table, trying to organise his thoughts, because they clouded his mind; and he heard footsteps slowly approaching.

His eyes darted up, seeing Baek stand a few feet away, dressed in his chequered pyjamas, clearly tired. He folded his arms and leant against the wall in the corridor, addressing the look on his student's face, and grinned slightly, "**I assume you had a wonderful day.**"

"**I love her.**"

The grin vanished. He looked at him with a curious face, for many reasons, watching as the Blood Talon sat up on the stool, leaning on his forearm. The sudden confession had him baffled, he assumed that to get to such a stage it would've taken… a very, very long time, especially with how cautious he was with his heart – how gently he held it, and how heavily guarded it was. But what really surprised him was his unwavering certainty, and how he was unafraid to admit it – a far cry from when he admitted his care only a year and a half ago. His heart was once bitter, but now…

He shook his head, his thoughts now focused; and he now _knew _how he felt, but more so that he could still love, because when his parents died, he thought he could never feel this way ever again_, _"**I love her!**"

Baek watched on as the younger Korean jumped off the stool, still all smiles.

"**And I've never felt so… **_**sure**_**, or so happy.**"

He furrowed his eyebrows, watching as the youth began to strip himself of his day clothes and his goggles. He growled, "**Hwoarang, please, don't throw them on the floor, I'm sick of ironing your clothes because of your carelessness.**"

He ignored his Master regardless, now clad in only boxers, and tossed all of his clothing into his room, before hovering in front of the neighbouring door.

"…_**What **__**are**_** you doing?**"

"**I can't sleep alone,**" he stated, "**Not tonight.**"

With that said and done, the soon-to-be-16-year-old opened the door to Razer's room, sliding in, closing it gently behind him thereafter. He noticed the rose on the bedside table, and saw how the object of his affections was curled in her usual position, facing the wall. He was unsure if she was asleep, but she was certainly giving off that impression; and too wrapped up in his happiness, he didn't think that she would mind if he snuck in.

He slid underneath her blankets and pressed a light kiss to her temple, "**I love you.**"

_I love you I love you I love you I love you. And I will tell you everyday until I die._


	21. Silent Murder

Author's Note: Updating for the sake of updating, don't mind me! :D

* * *

_**Chapter Twenty-One: Silent Murder**_

"Hwo, you stole the last chocolate, you wanker!"

Baek's eyes flickered up from his newspaper, peering over the top of the pages to see Razer point an accusing finger at his other student. He watched intently as a now 16-year-old Hwoarang stood up a little taller, a hand on his hip, and raised his other hand, wagging his finger back and forth, "Well, I'm a guy. Of course I'm a wanker. It's my favourite thing to do after annoying you, Raze."

"Ass…"

At this, Hwoarang looked over his shoulder, "It's nice, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"My ass!" he crowed, checking himself out a little longer.

She rolled her eyes, looked away, and folded her arms across her stomach, thereafter resting her head in the palm of her hand, "Fuck you, seriously…"

"K!"

Turning her head to look back at the boy, she watched as he swiftly unclasped the top, metal part of his shirt, and then proceeded to unzip the green and orange clothing. Sliding it off one shoulder, he pulled his arm through the hole, and then pulled the rest of the garment onto the floor, resting his hands on his hips afterwards with a challenging, victorious smirk.

She mentally yelled at herself for staring at his toned body, for she had handed him victory. Placing one hand on her hip, she readied her left for a slap that the Korean knew was coming; and released it with as much force as possible, the stinging sound of the collision reverberating throughout the area. It was soon joined by two pained sounds, by both the attacker and the victim.

Baek placed his paper down beside him and stood from his chair outside. He opened the screen door, watching as she nursed her hand, and as he placed pressure on his struck right cheek. Fighting hard to contain laughter, he inquired, "What happened?"

"Don't ask, Baek," they answered in unison.

Shaking his head, a grin flourished upon his features. He turned away, walking down the long corridor, and ran a hand through his grey hair. The 43-year-old's hand trailed down the old, sturdy wooden door, resting on the doorknob thereafter. He turned it and walked outside, taking in the fresh air, feeling the breeze batter his clothes around. It wasn't a weak breeze, but it certainly wasn't strong. Exhaling, he strolled over towards the mailbox and opened it, extracting the mail inside.

_Bills, bills, advertising, bills… _

His grin grew, and his eyebrows shot up at the final piece of mail. Turning it over, he opened the envelope and extracted the items inside, before turning and entering the dojang once more, closing the door behind him. He lifted his head, seeing his two students (one of which had his shirt back on, finally) talking amongst each other, ending every sentence with 'in my pants' – another game of theirs.

"Damn you, in my pants," Razer sighed, "I did not expect you to say such a thing, in my pants."

"Too bad, in my pants."

"Shut up, in my pants!"

"**I want you **in my pants."

Baek couldn't help but release a roar of laughter at the comment. His hand rose to his mouth, where he tried to stifle his booming voice, but to no avail. Both youths turned to look at him, Hwoarang sporting that cheeky grin and sniggering, and Razer wondering exactly what her Korean counterpart said, and why it was so fucking funny. He eventually quietened down and waved them over to him, "Come over here, you two."

So they did. Hwoarang stretched his arms behind his head, "What's up?"

"I got something in the mail just now," he stated, still grinning.

"And…?" Razer remarked.

He pulled out the two, flimsy, small tickets, waving them around, "And they're yours."

Hesitantly, his oldest student grabbed one with a curious face and looked at it. He scanned the Hangul writing quickly and bit his lip, his eyes bulging. He looked to the Greek for a moment, before returning his gaze to his mentor, "Baek, are you serious? What – _why?_"

"Because," he said, "you both got your black belts, and you both know that it's not an easy thing… And this is my gift to you two, my present… for being wonderful students and wonderful friends. It is my congratulations and my thanks."

Hwoarang immediately jumped on the man and hugged him, "Thank you!"

Razer was still confused by the entire ordeal, but thanked Baek as well regardless. She took the last ticket from her master's hand and observed it. She could now read Hangul, albeit it took her a while to read what it, and she didn't always understand what it said. Slowly sounding it out in her mind, she waited, hoping that her brain would associate it with something she recognised. After all, some Korean words were borrowed and modified English ones.

Realising that she didn't know what was going on, Hwoarang grabbed her wrists excitedly, "Concert tickets!"

"To?"

"Story of the Year! And its tonight!"

She looked at Doo San again, "You got them?!"

A small nod.

She mirrored Hwoarang's earlier actions and speech, "How did you know they were coming out?"

"I browsed through the computer's history and saw that you two had been searching them," he let go of his student and patted her head, before turning his attention to the other male in the room, "…and I found some other things in there too, that _someone_ forgot to clear before I got to _my _computer again."

Hwoarang bit his lip and stiffened up.

"Stop looking up porn on my computer."

"Yes sir."

* * *

"You kids ready to go?" Baek asked, standing at the door, spinning his car keys around his finger.

"Hurry up and put the damn battery into your MP3 player, Hwoarang!"

"Raze, don't get your fucking knickers in a knot," A click was heard, "There we go." He shoved the item into the pocket of his jeans, along with the large chunk of change given to him by his instructor. He looked up to the man for a moment, "Are you sure you don't want to take some back? This is a hell of a lot of money. I don't think we'll need this much."

"Its fine," Doo San replied, ushering the two out of the dojang door. He closed it behind him, turning to lock it, before moving towards the driveway, where his car was parked. Unlocking it, he continued, "It'll cover food, drinks, snacks, and whatever merchandise you wish to purchase, and then some."

"I think you're getting a bit senile, old man," he teased, sliding into the backseat, "Its _more _than enough."

"I like to spoil you two," he responded, untwisting the seatbelt, and turning on the engine. Turning, he put one arm around the seat beside him, and began to reverse slowly, "You know for a fact that I'm a family man. I don't have biological children, so you two are the closest I've got, so it's only right for me to spoil you guys occasionally."

"Why?"

He smirked in a fashion that reminded Razer of Hwoarang, "Because I can."

"Only reason you don't have kids is because you've never had sex."

"_Please, _by the time I was your age, I'd already screwed around with about five girls."

"_**What!?**_"

He laughed, driving down the road, ignoring the persistent male youth behind him, asking if it was true or if he had made it up, and if it was true, what was he doing sleeping around at this age. Drumming his fingers on the grey steering wheel, he turned on the radio and told his fellow Korean to interact with his silent friend, who was simply staring out the window, clutching her jeans almost nervously.

Glancing in the mirror again, he noticed that she was indeed nervous about something, but he was not sure about what. It was as though there was something in the pit of her stomach, forewarning her of something, and she was unsure of whether or not to follow it or not. If that was the case, then it couldn't be a mere coincidence that he felt the same. For the last week, he felt haunted, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. At least Hwoarang was blissfully oblivious at the moment, he supposed.

Stopping at the lights, he opened the glove box next to him, remembering something. Seeing the sugary treat idly sitting there, he grabbed it, slammed the glove box closed, and tossed it behind him aimlessly, monitoring its descent into the Greek's lap through the mirror. He spoke as the traffic began to move finally, the lights permitting the vehicles to, "Sorry, it is a bit melted. I bought it yesterday and have been meaning to give it to you."

"Thank you," she said, peeling the wrapper away. Ignoring its melted appearance, she bit into it, savouring the sugar rush she craved earlier.

"Now you can apologise for hitting me this morning," Hwoarang sneered teasingly, "You got your damn chocolate."

"The only person, or thing, that I'm going to apologise to in regards to that slap this morning is my hand. Sorry, hand."

There was silence for a few moments, aside from the furious munching in the back seat. Before long, the Blood Talon piped up again with a grin, realising that this was a nice opportunity to make a completely random and amusing (at least, to him) statement, "You know, with the way you're eating that chocolate, you're asking to be molested."

Baek quirked his eyebrow at the statement, and heard Razer ask, "…What?"

"You heard me."

He contained a chuckle when he heard her move towards the left, away from his other student. She spoke, "Whatever, Hwoarang. You really need to stop saying such strange things, it screws around with your image, and I know you don't want such a thi –"

"If you don't shut up, I'm gonna shove my cock in your mouth."

"_What?!_" she hissed, narrowing her eyes, ignoring Baek's laughter.

"Yup, I'm totally gonna tape your mouth shut."

Razer palmed her face forcefully, ignoring the male laughter around her.

* * *

"So, why did you two want to get here early again?" Baek asked, walking the pair down to the entrance. They were almost there.

"So there's a smaller line," Hwoarang answered, looking around the place with an awed expression. He'd passed this place before, but he had never actually… _been _here. And he was enjoying every minute of it so far.

"Well, there already appears to be a line."

"…Fuck!"

"_Language_, kid."

He squinted, seeing the line of people come into view. With a sigh of relief, he said, "Yeah well, there's not as many as there otherwise would be, so we're in the clear and we'll get close to the front. Sweet. Seriously though, thank you so much, Baek. This means a lot to us, right Raze?"

"Right," she nodded, smiling appreciatively.

He said nothing, adjusting his red, leather vest over his plain, white shirt. Scratching his head, he continued to walk the pair to the end of the line, watching as a few of the teenagers in line casually smoked, giggled amongst themselves, and did other teenager things. One of the people, a male, was holding up a sign that said 'free hugs', and he was surprisingly getting them from random people passing by. Whenever he wasn't advertising the display of affection, he was sitting on one of his other male friends, much to his other friends' amusement, and the 'bench's' protest. Even a few others found it amusing.

What Baek found amusing, though, was that some people in the line recognised him as a King Of Iron Fist participant. One of them shouted out 'its Baek Doo San – the Killing Hawk – from the old tournament!', causing a few heads to turn; but he did not say anything in return, merely bowing slightly to acknowledge what they had said. Smiling a little, they reached the end of the line, and he shuddered, looking up into the greying sky, furrowing his eyebrows. Something wasn't right here.

His silence seemed to disturb Hwoarang, who was now frantically tugging at the short sleeve of his shirt, "Baek?"

"Yes?"

"Are you alright? You're so silent."

He smiled, "I'm fine, kiddo. I'm fine."

"If you say so."

"…Why do you have your bag here?"

"Water for both of us, MP3 player with spare batteries to listen to in the line, my phone, change of clothes –"

"Why do you need those?"

"Dunno, just packed them, for both of us. And jumpers. That's about it. Anyway, what time are you gonna pick us up?"

"Eh… I'll be here from 10:30 onwards, just across the road. I promise. If I'm not, just call me on your cellphone."

Taking both students and master by surprise, the 43-year-old lightly grabbed the Blood Talon and affectionately hugged him, patting the top of his head as though he were a child. Not sure what to make of this, Hwoarang hugged back regardless and said, "You're acting like we're going to die in the mosh pit or something. Relax."

He smirked, shoving him lightly once they let go of one another, "Yeah yeah. Take care of yourself, kid. I'm proud of you."

Razer hugged her Master too, burying her face into his side with a small smile, trying to conceal her worries, "Be careful."

He nodded, furrowing his eyebrows slightly, "I will."

He soon let her go and bent down slightly, so that they were face to face. Resting his hands on her shoulders, he watched as she furrowed her eyebrows too, curious as to what he was about to say, and bit her lip, trying to ignore the anxiousness that was swimming throughout her system. She found it difficult to face him because of it.

"Never start frowning, because you never know who will fall in love with your smile."

Perplexed by the spontaneousness of the statement, she nodded anyway, smiling a little, and watched as he stood to his full height, his hands falling off her shoulders. He walked back to the sidewalk and checked for a gap in the traffic. Once finding it, he walked across, his head held high, and once he got to the other side, he turned back, waving at his two greatest students, smirking as they hyperactively waved back. Once they turned away from him, Baek walked to his car.

* * *

"**Is anyone thirsty?!**" a bouncer yelled above the racket.

A hand shot up out of the squashed pit, shoving Hwoarang and Razer over to the side slightly. The Korean growled, looking at the boisterous man, who was eagerly lapping up the water being shot from the bottle. Shaking his head, he placed both of his hands back on either side of the strong, metal barricade, looking down at the girl who was trapped between them, "We're kinda close in here, huh?"

"Don't try anything," Athane answered, rolling her eyes with a smirk.

To her surprise, he did anyway, pressing his crotch harder into her behind teasingly, "So I can't do this?"

She hit him.

"I guess not…" he sighed, rubbing his cheek.

"**No fighting in there,**" another bouncer hissed, shining light into their eyes.

"**Hey buddy, mind getting that fucking flashlight out of our eyes?**" Hwoarang replied, "**We weren't fighting.**"

"**Well see to it that your feisty female friend doesn't attack you again. Last thing we need are people fighting in here…**" With that said and done, he strolled off, still holding the tiny flashlight, walking down the line once again, watching a girl in an extremely short skirt (he noticed, for sure) get carried out of the mosh pit. He rushed over to assist.

The lights dimmed. Razer turned and looked to her friend excitedly, "Is it them?"

Hwoarang said nothing, not sure himself, but assuming by all the screaming going on around him, he nodded a little, confirming both of their suspicions. Making sure the bag was in front of the barricade one last time, he placed a hand atop of the Greek's, and gripped the barricade tightly with his other hand, being shoved this way and that by other people behind him.

The lights came back, a faint purple at first, before fading entirely into a bluer colour. The screams of the youths were deafening, and their hands shot up, hailing the act they had come to see, excited that the time had come. All of the waiting in the lines, all of the waiting through the mediocre support acts, and finally, they had come and stood before them, armed with their instruments. The drums came in first, along with the singer, the guitar and bass awaiting the final line of the first chorus before slamming in, causing a surge in the crowd.

* * *

I can't see…

_He stumbled through the thick smoke, coughing, and he can't see an inch or so in front of him, let alone whatever hosted the glowing, red eyes on the opposite end of the room. Terrified, he stepped back, waving the smoke away from his mouth, trying to breathe in the sweet air – but it was only temporary, and it started to choke him again and again and again. What he didn't understand though was why – or how – or when – this whole place went up in –_

_Covering his eyes with his other hand, he ran through his home, kicking down the back door with force. Running out into the open grass, he breathed in deeply, the air now no longer tainted; and turned around, looking behind him, seeing the entire area up in flames. He shook his head in anger and disbelief, watching as a beast rose from the crumbling rubble and the flickering frames. Clenching his fists, he took a few more steps back as the beast stood before him, illuminated by the fire behind him._

_The red eyes burned._

_Despite himself, he found himself speaking, "Kazuya?"_

_No._

_He took one step forward, hissing._

_Your name…__ it murmured, reaching an arm out._

_He took another one back and ran to his right, watching as a fire blast destroyed some of the plants in the flowerbed beside the cherry tree. Unsure of what else to do, he ran forward and leapt into the air, a delicate, poised kick aiming for the thing's neck. But as he got closer, he watched as the skin he originally thought was human became a sickening green, and he realised that he was fighting a –_

_Monster?__ it asked, grabbing him by the ankle, throwing him into the ground opposite him, against the fence._

_His body collided with the metal, a dent forming. He slumped forward, coughing, a hand on his chest. Looking up, he furrowed his eyebrows, watching as the green monster, doused in golden armour, inched closer and closer, "Who are you?"_

_Who am I…?__ it inquired, pondering the response, __Who indeed. A God?__ It cackled, slamming a foot into the ground, watching as the opponent slowly rose to his feet, moving to attack. It prattled on, further angering the opponent… which was _exactly _what it wanted, __Yes yes, according to some people, some cultures… I _am _a God. And I like that. Do you like that, human? Do you like that, mortal man?_

_With frustration, he attacked, throwing a variety of kicks and the occasional punch into his routine. He executed a throw, grabbing the beast by the head and slamming his foot into it, watching as his body fell back. Still in stance, he watched as the monster stood on his own two feet again. He dodged an incoming kick and realised, to his horror that they were in his image. The beast had taken his attacks and used them against him._

_Ironic, isn't it?__ it huffed, taking to a different tactic. It back-flipped, its feet slamming into the chin of the man, and then impaled its left fist into the same area, watching as the body flew backwards and out of control. Once he fell and looked up again, the creature laughed, watching as the realisation dawned upon his face, __You know this attack, yes yes! What about this one?_

_Two, quick left punches smashed into his face, followed by forceful right, again sending the man back. With an angered cry, he went down, and the beast's jittery laugh flooded the area. It was amused, even as it walked forward and grabbed the plaything by the front of his shirt, watching blood descend from his nose and his partially open mouth. _

_First you… then the Angel… and then the Devil._

_Its other hand shot up to the man's throat, crushing tightly._

_If they are supernatural, then what are you?_

"Human…_" he hissed, smashing his leg into the side of the beast, but to no avail._

_Yes…__ it said, fangs slowly growing from within its mouth, horns slowly sprouting from its head. Its eyes faded from red to pure gold, __You are a human. Just a human, and nothing more. A worthless, pathetic human, looking for redemption for his sins before he dies… but you're not going to get it. _Never. _Because this is it for you, mortal man… This is it._

_Large, leathery wings, which were not there before, suddenly pumped; and he watched as the place became smaller and smaller, and as he lost consciousness – but would he ever wake up?_

_The Killing Hawk's final flight._

* * *

"Wake up, stupid!"

Razer felt cold water splash on her face. She blinked hurriedly and clutched the barricade again, "Huh?"

"You looked like you were about to pass out," Hwoarang remarked, worried. He briefly looked up to the bouncer who had splashed the water on her face, thanking him, before looking back to the girl in front of him, "Are you okay? Do you wanna get out or something?"

"I'm fine," she answered, smiling at his concern, "Was just a bit tired from all the jumping."

"Then stop jumping. It's the smart thing to do."

I am uneasy… Devil quipped, shivering. Her breathing was harsh and hurried.

_So am I… _"There's only one more song, right? They left, and they're on the second encore song… Means that there is only one left I assume."

"Probably."

The notes came in quick succession, three up, then two down in its pattern. One time. Two. Three. Four. The drums bashed in.

"Here it is here it is here it is! Been fuckin' _waiting _for this song! WOOOOOO YEAH!!"

_Do you still remember back when  
__Days were longer,  
__Dreams were bigger then.  
The weight of the world had not yet  
Landed on the shoulders of a man.  
I thought  
I thought that time stood still,  
Sheltered, protected.  
They never told em this would end or  
That the leaves would fall again._

* * *

"DUUUUUUUUUDE! OH MY FUCKING GOD, WHEN I SEE YOU, I'M GONNA KICK YOU IN THE SHIN AND THEN GIVE YOU A BONE-CRUSHING HUG!" Hwoarang yelled into the cellphone. He had called Baek, for he was not anywhere in sight, like he had promised. The duo had opted for going back to the dojang by bus, and both were still a little hard of hearing. The bumpy bus wasn't making things any better, and the glare from the bus driver had him quieten down, "You said you'd pick us up but you're not there and shit so, we've taken the bus home instead. Razer's a bit dizzy, I think the pit got to her, but she's alright; and I'm perfectly fine. Just hyper. So. Fucking. _Hyper! _See you, Baek!"

Razer opened her eyes when she felt breath near her face. She saw him hover above her, "What?"

"That wasn't too loud, was it?"

She pressed a hand to her throbbing head, "It was quite loud."

He smirked and kissed her forehead affectionately, "Sorry, Raze. Aside from the dizziness and shit, did you have fun?"

"Of course I did," she answered, patting his thigh, "And you did too, clearly. You almost have no voice left."

"Yeah," he grinned, resting his head on hers, ignoring the bumpy road, "I know. But man, that show inspired me. I mean fine, it wasn't all prettied up and shit, and it was hot and sweaty and loud, but that show fucking inspired me. It's really made me appreciate my musical talent. I want to share it now, I don't wanna just… hide it anymore. I've got what I've got, so I may as well show it to others. I might be up there one day, with Shin and Changy behind me, and some other random guy; and we'll be having so much fun."

"I hope this experience continues to inspire you, even in your times of doubt."

"Yeah. What do you wanna be when you grow up? I wanted to be an astronaut, as you know, but now I'm thinking more towards rock star," he laughed, "I'd get laid soooooo fucking much man. Like, women wouldn't be able to get enough of me, and they'd hide up in trees and kamikaze their way down, just to meet me, let alone get to my dick."

"…Kamikaze their way down from trees _just _to meet you, huh?"

"Hehe, yeah."

"_Where_ do you come up with this shit?"

"No idea. But back to the original question, what do you want to be?"

"Mm… I do not really know, to be honest. I suppose I just want to be with someone," she shuffled a little closer towards him and rubbed her eyes, attempting to stifle a yawn too. The concert had made her very tired, let alone her slight fading out during it. What was most disturbing was she could not identify the opponent of the monster, but her heart told her it was someone very close – and that terrified her, "I see myself with someone, looking after him while he goes off and lives his dream with me by his side."

He smiled, "It sounds nice."

She smiled too, reaching out an arm to press the stop button on the bus. They were approaching the turn into their street, and once the bus stopped at the stop directly across from home, they would leap off of the vehicle, charge down the door and tackle their Master, hugging him around the legs, waist, _anywhere – _just to say thank you, because…

The bus stopped.

"Huh? **Hey buddy, what's going on?**" Hwoarang asked, "**This isn't our stop, it's the next one.**"

Razer sat up a little, rubbing her forehead. Her human pillow had moved, also sitting up, and both looked out in front of them, a few houses down, and the firemen and the neighbourhood people that had gathered out the front of a burning house. The flames were soaring high into the sky, and the smoke flying even higher still, daring to touch the clouds and the heavens. The area was a blood red, tainted with the occasional orange, yellow, and the smallest smidges of pink breaking up the strength of the warmer, larger colours.

The dojang…

Both students abruptly leapt out of their seats at the back of the bus, and charged down. The few people that remained on the vehicle simply looked through the window, ignorant of the two panicking youths, one of whom was summoning all of his remaining strength to get to the area as fast as he fucking could, regardless of the ache in his chest, regardless the cold sweat dripping down his shoulders, and regardless of the dread in his heart.

_Please… No._

Razer pushed through the gap in the crowd that the Korean had made. She heard him speak hurriedly in his native language, to anyone who would listen. She stood at the front of the crowd, holding his backpack, looking at the devastated area. The dojang's fence was completely destroyed, crumpled to the ground in black ashes. The front door, the walls were falling into themselves, the wood having long surrendered to the flames. Even the cherry tree in the backyard had been burnt, but it survived.

Nothing else did.

She covered her mouth and shook her head hurriedly, tears welling in her eyes, and if they wanted to fall, she would let them come.

This is…

"**Please,**" Hwoarang began, "**What happened? What happened to this dojang? What happened to my house!? I live here! Me and the European girl, we fucking **_**live **_**here, with our Master, Master Baek Doo San – he fought in the Second King Of Iron Fist Tournament, way back in Japan sixteen years ago – he teaches Tae Kwon Do classes here! What happened!? Someone **_**answer me! **_**Answer me…**"

Their heads were bowed low, and some tried to answer, but they couldn't.

In a desperate attempt to get an answer, he fumbled in his pocket for his cellphone and hurriedly dialled Baek. Not even the message bank arrived like it had many minutes ago, and it was here that he started to cry. Flipping the phone closed, he slid it back into his pocket and ran up to the nearest fireman, who was calling the police to the scene. Unable to find the will to wipe his tears, he waited for the fireman to stop talking and look at him. When he did, he was trembling violently, "**Who lit the fire?**"

"**It was not deliberately lit,**" he answered, patting him on the shoulder, "**It was an accident.**"

"**Did you find… Did you find a man in there? Is he alive? Did he make it? Please…**"

He hesitated, and that was all the youth needed to know, "**I'm sorry, kid. Baek Doo San is dead.**"

A silent murder.

Razer nodded slightly, her heart wrenching not only at the fire burning out, but at the state of the Blood Talon. He took several steps back from the fireman and the dojang itself, making another pathway through the crowd. Some moved to touch his shoulder, but thought better of it when they realised that his eyes were almost shut tight, and that tears were blurring the rest of his vision. He just cried and cried and cried in silence, without restriction or shame; and backed up all the way to the sidewalk, where he finally found the strength to turn away and sit, pulling down his goggles and pressing his forehead into his hand.

The two places you have ever called home were burnt to the ground, Devil chimed, as though entertained by the scene. Her host felt a few tears fall as she looked onto the scene before her, a sense of loss and grief overwhelming her, And the only two adults who treated you like you should've been in your youth burned with it. But where as you destroyed your home in Greece, I wonder who or what destroyed this dojang. You have lost everything. _Again. _But… so has someone else. Wondering in silence is not your main priority, Razer. That is not your main priority right now. 

Breathing in, she wiped the few lingering tears from her face and bowed her head for a moment, _Farewell, Baek. And thank you._

Go to him.

Without a word, she turned on her heels, still holding the backpack, and made her way to the lost boy on the side of the road, who was still shattered by the events. Seating herself on his left, she wrapped her arms around him tightly, thereafter pulling his head closer towards her in a comforting manner. She squeezed him a little after one particularly large shudder, and murmured into his hair, "Shh… Everything's going to be okay, Hwoarang. Everything will be alright."

"I never…" he swallowed, squeezing his eyes shut, burying his face into the curve of her neck, "I n-never thought this would happen… N-not again. I never even got the chance to thank him for everthing he did for me… Or tell him how much I cared. I never told him that I saw him as another Dad… and that I love him like a Dad…"

"He knew, Hwoarang."

He opened his eyes and sat up hurriedly, "He told you…?"

She shook her head, removing her left arm. Placing a loosely closed fist to her chest, she tapped it twice, "He knew in here. And he loved you just as much and appreciated everything you ever did, stupid or not. You may have lost your real parents due to a murder, but he _is _your second Father, because he raised you, fed you, clothed you, and taught you when they couldn't. You are his son. Not by blood, but just by bond. You are his son, and nothing can ever take that away.

"Just because he died doesn't mean he's gone either," she added. She placed her fist over his heart, and again tapped twice, "He's in here now, with your parents, in your little fort, and you protect them here. _Nothing _can take him away from you. Your memories are yours to keep, and if you look inside of you again, you'll see not only your Father and your Mother, but Baek too. He's in there…" she opened her hand, having her whole palm over it, "and so am I. We won't leave you. I won't leave you."

He placed a hand over hers, loosely clenching it, and desperately tried to speak, "I…"

_Say it._

"…I… _I l…_"

She looked at him and waited, heart in her mouth.

He shook his head and merely resumed his curled position again, "**I love you…** And thanks."

"I am not the one you should be thanking. You should be thanking your teacher," she answered, holding him again. She looked over her shoulder, seeing that the fire was now entirely out, and the charred remnants of the dojang no longer gave off smoke. She watched as a fireman walked towards them with a blank expression, hoping to talk to the broken boy about what to do now. And she couldn't help but wonder, terrified, what would happen to them from here on in.

_So take me back,  
Back to better days,  
_'_Cause this time between  
Is wasting me away.  
Take me back,  
When we were not afraid,  
_'_Cause this time between  
Is wasting me away._


	22. Hope Will Never Die

_If it is in _normal _style, then it is speech.  
If it is in italics, then it is thought.  
If it is in __**bold,**__ then it is the individual's natural tongue.  
If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil.

* * *

_

Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to Angela Liossi :) ευχαριστώ!!! :DDDD

* * *

_**Chapter Twenty-Two: Hope Will Never Die**_

An orphanage, Devil taunted.

Razer lay in the supplied bed, staring at the ceiling.

A _foster _home.

The crisis occurred about a week ago now, and now they were in a foster home. Everyday was painful, because her memories of Baek stirred with every small thing in her day. She remembered trying dim sum for the first time, and she remembered Baek dropping some of it on his shirt, and then laughter all around. She remembered Hwoarang's fourteenth birthday, and the sneaky looks that she and her master had given one another before giving their gift. She remembered so much more, and every memory, whilst soothing, was also painful.

You saw it, she remarked, You and I saw it all, in that pit. That's why you were so dizzy, but I wonder why? What connection could we possibly have with that green monster? she scoffed dismissively, Well, whatever. You saw what happened. He died in the beast's arms. Didn't even get a chance to fight back _properly… _How delightful.

She wondered how Hwoarang was faring. He was trying very hard to keep together whilst he spoke with the authorities to file reports and so on and so forth, but when they arrived here, he just broke. In the orphanage, they were separated, as expected. They were placed with their own genders, and whilst she had seen him occasionally and attempted interaction, he practically shut himself off. When she confronted him about it, he said that he wanted to bleed in silence, and he didn't want her involved. Well, she wanted to be involved, but she was terrified to intervene.

He's broken again, and you're scared to intervene and help him fix up the pieces? I thought you loved this man.

_But what if I make it worse…?_

…Yeah, you are probably right. He will probably want to kill himself after seeing you.

Angered at her bland and insulting statement, she abruptly stood and slung his backpack over her back. He had not taken it off of her yet, and a few of the other kids in the area were trying to thieve the bag and its components, so she kept it on her at all times. Sliding past a few of the other girls, she opened the front door and exited the building, walking in a straight line towards the boy's area, which was directly across from the girl's.

What is the bet that he is slitting his wrists right now over the sink? I bet two hours of controlling your body.

_We're not betting my body, _she hissed, knocking on the door, _And I really doubt he'd be doing that._

After a few moments, a boy opened the door. She blinked repeatedly at the length of his messy hair, ignoring Devil's snide comment of how it came down to his nipples, and asked in English if Hwoarang was in the room. The boy fortunately understood and nodded, stepping aside. He closed the door after her, adding quietly, "He's asleep at the moment, you can hang out if you like. He's been really upset, what happened?"

"Our Master died in a fire a week ago," she replied, "Took the dojang with it. Hwoarang and Baek had known each other for eleven years, he took him in and treated him like his own son… It's really affected him. I am hurt by the events but I am more hurt by how he is now than when the man died."

"Do you like him?"

"Mm, more than that."

"Ohhh. Why don't you get together with him? I think he feels the same, even though I barely know him."

"You're shitting me."

"I'm not."

She waved her hand nonchalantly, shaking her head dismissively, "Whatever."

He raised his eyebrows and shrugged, thereafter pointing at the sleeping boy on the opposite end of the room, "He's over there."

"Thank you," she turned, going down the corridor of beds, until she came to Hwoarang.

He looks terrible… the devil within murmured.

Nodding softly to her statement, she seated herself on the edge of the bed and watched him sleep. There were bags under his eyes, his hair was splayed everywhere, he had lost the lively, happy colour in his face, and even in his sleep, he wore a frown and worry lines. Shaking her head, she reached out a hand and stroked his forehead, smiling slightly when he shuffled about and seemingly pressed into it.

Her hand slid from its position and stayed on his warm, muscly shoulder, squeezing it lightly in silent support, _You will be okay, I promise. I won't let you stray away from me again. We both worked too hard to get to where we are now._

After a few minutes, she let go of his shoulder and placed her hand limply on top of what she could see of his underneath the sheets. She almost leapt out of her skin when he clasped back, and ignored the sly smirk and the small chuckle. She smiled a little, glad to see some type of emotion out of him other than sadness, and raised her other hand, scratching the back of your head, "You scared me."

"I knew you were here," he answered, "Haven't been awake that long though."

"Sorry."

"Don't apologise."

"How are you?"

"Mm…" he let go of her hand and rolled over, facing the wall, "Shit. This whole thing has just fucked me over, big time. I've lost the motivation to keep going with music, let alone training, even if I ever found another trainer or whatever. I just…"

"Sorry."

"Don't apologise," he repeated, slightly agitated.

She looked down and nodded, reigning in the desire to apologise for apologising. Sighing helplessly, she asked, "Is there anything I can do…? I hate seeing you this way, Hwo. What can I do to make it better and easier?"

"If I knew, I'd tell you… Just… stay with me. That'll make it easier to go through."

"Okay."

She remained seated and looked out of the window nearby, seeing the April day shine on. After a set period of silence, Hwoarang spoke up again, but didn't move from his position, "Hey…?"

"Mm?"

"How come… you didn't cry?"

"I did cry…" she answered, looking to her lap, "but… I wanted to be strong for you so I can help you, because you're a lot more damaged about this than I am. You mean the world to me… and I want to help you get through this pain any way I can. Nobody was there for you when your parents died, and it took you two years to tell the only person who would listen… but now, you have somebody… and it's me. I'll do whatever it takes to get you better."

There was a clear shakiness in her voice, and it was that feature that made him turn his head and look over his shoulder. Noticing that she was hunched over, as though she had been afraid to speak to him, he rolled onto his side, facing her again, and moved over, a small smile on his lips. He knew that he would be affected by Baek's death, but he supposed that the old, heartless, cold and bitter charade still thought that she wouldn't be. He spoke again, "Hey."

Razer looked to him, noticing that he had moved aside, and furrowed her eyebrows questioningly.

He patted the empty, yet small space beside him, "Lie with me."

She nodded slightly, placing the backpack on the ground, "Okay."

She shifted from her sitting position and lay on her back beside him, as stiff as a board, but maintained eye contact with him. He was half curled up whilst looking at her, and hesitantly shuffled closer to her, resting his head on her shoulder. With a light sigh, he closed his eyes and spoke, sliding an arm around her protectively, "I know that everything will be okay, but… it doesn't make me any less scared. What's gonna happen from here on in? Are we going to stay here, or will they find us a new family? Will we get money and move out into an apartment together? You know? Just… stuff like that. And I also can't help but wonder why this happened. What did Baek do to deserve this? _Nothing. _Nothing at all. I just…"

"It is okay to be scared. Just take things as they come. Who knows, maybe they will give us money and jobs, and we will move into an apartment. Or maybe we will be divided."

He opened his eyes and looked up at her, "No. I won't let that happen, I don't want us to split up."

"We could still see each other."

"_No. _With you… I want to be with you, for every waking moment. Because, if you were taken away from me… I don't know what I'd do. You said you were here…" he touched her chest lightly, where her heart was, "with the others. If you left too I'd… I really dunno, Raze. But you're too important to me. For as long as I live and for as long as we're friends, I want to be by your side, and I want you to be by mine."

She smiled softly and planted a light kiss on his forehead, "Sure."

Satisfied with the talk, he closed his eyes again and slid his hand back down her side, pulling her closer towards him. She eventually complied and rolled over entirely, trapping his right arm, pushing him over onto his back to do so. The woman was now clinging to him, both arms around his torso, and one leg haphazardly thrown across his; and for a moment, the pain of losing Baek faded, and the strength of his love came back, blocking it out and healing those smaller wounds. His left hand strayed to his stomach, resting there timidly, and his other arm forced itself upwards a little, wrapping around her shoulders.

"Hey?"

"Mm?"

"Where do you see us… in five years time?"

_Together, _he thought to himself, _Because by then, I would've definitely found a way to tell you how I feel._

"Hwoarang?"

"Neona…" he answered.

"What does that mean?" she pressed, looking up.

He hesitated, "'You and I'."

"Oh… As in romantically or something?"

He snapped immediately, mentally hissing that he shouldn't have said anything, "No. I mean… just… Still in each other's lives, with the same strength in our friendship as now, you know?"

"Yeah… Do you think that either of us would have found someone by then?"

"I dunno," he replied, "I guess… time will tell."

The pressure on his arm was relieved, however there was more weight on his chest and his body in general. He pulled out his other arm from beneath the source of the weight and opened his eyes, looking up to see that Razer was now lying on top of him, her chin resting on her forearms, which were perched on his chest. He quirked an eyebrow, silently inquiring what the shift was about, and listened as she responded, "I just felt like it."

He shrugged to the best of his ability and smirked a little, "Okay then."

She smiled back and turned her head, pressing her cheek to his warm chest, and noticed his goggles hanging from the bed knob nearby. Her green eyes drifted away from there to the boy who was about their age, maybe a bit younger, who had opened the door for her, seeing him stand there with his arms folded, a small smile on his face. It expanded when she felt Hwoarang shuffle beneath her, placing a firm kiss on the top of her head, saying 'sarang hae yo' again; and the boy flicked his head at them in an 'I told you so' manner.

But what did he say…?

"Hwoarang… What does that mean?"

"What does what mean?"

"'Sarang hae yo'. You always 'say' it to me, but you never _say _what it means."

_Because I'm terrified of what you'll think, _"It's not important. And it's nothing bad either."

"But…"

"Please… not today. Just drop it."

"Alright…"

"**Why don't you say it in English and to her face, Hwoarang?**" the boy yelled from across the room, going to leave, "**She feels the same, but like you, is too spineless, let alone broken, and won't say it. Man the fuck up and open your eyes.**"

He blinked rapidly, watching the boy leave, and dismissed his statement entirely. He hesitantly gazed to the ceiling, thinking the same thing as his accomplice unknowingly, _I can always hope…_

There are other things to worry about now rather than love issues, Devil murmured to Razer, sighing tiredly.


	23. Prisoner of Love

_If__ it is in _normal _style, then it is speech.  
If it is in italics, then it is thought.  
If it is in __**bold,**__ then it is the individual's natural tongue.  
If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil._

* * *

Author's Note: Oh my, an update for my dwindling public XD We're getting there. Sorry about slowness. Just finished TAFE so, expect me to write more and to post more and and and yeah. And a certain someone that everybody absolutely loves is three chapters away :3

* * *

_**Chapter Twenty-Three: Prisoner Of Love**_

They were at the fountain, just sitting there, reflecting on the events that had happened. Occasionally, Hwoarang would curl up at the memories that hurt him, and to slay them, Razer would simply put an arm around him, or allow him to put an arm around her in an act of comfort. He seemed to relax a little then, and it helped calm his nerves. As the days went by, the pain diminished, but it never faded entirely, and he wondered if it would be here forever.

The small things that they'd talk about to help get to know each other better was a welcome distraction, and to continue the randomness, he cleared his throat and observed their reflection in the water of the fountain behind him, "So, how do you say your name in Greek anyway? Like, proper Greek."

She hesitated for a moment before brushing her light brown hair out of her eyes. She needed a haircut, badly, "Ksirafi."

"Cool. Is that like 'razor' or something?"

"Yes. My parents spelt it in English with an 'e' to distinguish my name from the object. I still do not know why I was named that, though, and frankly I don't really care… I guess it is like you, being named 'flower knight' and all, you know? And then changing the spelling a bit… Just random paternal shit," She saw him nod out of the corner of his eye, "How do you say 'razor' in Korean anyway?"

"'Myeondokai'. But for names and stuff, we write it and say it as close as we can to the actual name. So to those who don't know English, you're 'Reisa', or thereabouts. And… yeah," he looked up at her.

"I see."

"How's Devil?"

"She's very silent. I think she has been affected by Baek's departure too."

"Mm."

Razer furrowed her eyebrows, squinting to get a better glimpse at the approaching figure. She made it out to be the form of a curvaceous and heavy-set woman, wandering over towards the pair with her hands pressed together. She eventually spoke up, "Hwo, isn't that one of the workers? Why is she coming this way?"

"I… dunno…"

The woman eventually stopped before them. Smiling, she bowed, and both returned the gesture in kind. She waved to the 14-year-old, before refocussing her gaze on Hwoarang, "**How are you faring this afternoon, Hwoarang?**"

"**Um… Fine, I guess. Something wrong?**"

"**Mr Chung wants to see you.**"

"**Why?**"

"**You will see when you get there, dear,**" the worker answered, nodding a little, "**I will stay with your friend.**"

* * *

_Why would they wanna see me? _he thought, pacing outside the room in question, hesitating. A small spark of hope came to life in his heart, and he stopped walking, looking up, a slight smile on his face, _Maybe Baek's alive and he's come to take us back!_

Deciding that _that _is what it was, with refuelled hope in his heart, he tapped on the door lightly, hearing a rough 'enter' sound from the other side. Taking in a deep breath and mentally preparing a scolding to his newly found Master, he opened the door and hurriedly surveyed the area, desperate to see that hard, angled face. Sadly, he did not find it, and his heart stung.

There were four people standing in the room. A Korean man was seated in the centre of the room behind a desk, and there was a small family to his left, standing there with a small smile. The two adults were European, however their daughter was a Korean like him, and it was clear that she had been around them, adopted, for a very long time. He narrowed his eyes, confused and frustrated, before closing the door behind him softly.

Remaining rooted where he was, despite being beckoned forward, he bit out slowly, "**What is this about?**"

"**We've found a family to adopt.**"

"**I don't want a family. I've been through two of them already. My real parents were killed in a shooting, and Baek died in a fucking fire. No more families.**"

"**This family is not for you,**" the man answered, rubbing his chin. He was the Director of the orphanage, and he was seen as a kind, but strict man. He leant back, the leather chair squeaking due to the act, "**Not only can they not afford you, but you are sixteen and you are therefore able to look after yourself, alone. We are only holding you here so you can get yourself back together, and then you will be let go into the world. Your friend, however, is not even fifteen yet. Two more months, you said. She is too young to be released into the world. She still needs someone to teach her and look after her.**"

"**I'll look after her,**" he replied.

"**You are too young to. You have told us in our previous meetings that Razer does not speak Korean, therefore she cannot be adopted into a Korean family…**" he gestured to the trio beside him, "**This is Mr and Mrs Theophilus, customers of ours. They have already adopted one of our younger girls from a few years back, and they live in the country side, away from Seoul. They are Greek, to comply with your friend's needs, and they communicate in Greek, English and simple Korean. They want to adopt your friend. The papers have been signed.**"

He narrowed his eyes at them, "**I'm sure she'd be happy with them, but I want to go with her.**"

"**You cannot nor need to be adopted,**" the Director stated monotonously, "**It is as simple as that.**"

"**Then I'm sorry, but you can't take her from me. I won't let you.**"

Mr Chung scoffed for a moment at the defiant youth, "**On what grounds?**"

"**I love her. That's it. So I won't let you take her away from me.**"

"**That is not satisfactory. You **_**will **_**comply. She will go to this family.**"

"_**No!**_"

"**Hwoarang –**"

He took a step back, shaking his head, quivering with rage, "**Not only do I love her, but I would take better care of her than these people. I'm sure they take wonderful care of their daughter, but I know this girl inside out and back to front. She's my world, and if you take my world away from me, then what do I have left? She only told me yesterday that I mean the world to her too, so if I'm taken away from her, what does **_**she **_**have left? **_**Nothing! **_**So no, I won't comply unless I get to go into this family too.**"

"But you can still visit us," the Mother replied in English, smiling sympathetically. She had obviously understood a fair chunk of the conversation, and still was interested in pursuing her goal. She strolled over, wanting to place a hand on his shoulder, "I would adopt you too, into this family, but we cannot afford it yet…"

"Baek Doo San of the King Of Iron Fist Tournament Two didn't _need _money to adopt me," he growled, "He just took me in, out of the kindness of his heart, off the street, after my parents were shot to death, and after I wandered the streets for a few weeks and almost _starved. _And I lived with him as his student, friend and son for eleven years."

She hesitated for a moment, "Your accent… You are a native English speaker? You do not have a thick accent like my daughter. Your Korean accent is faint."

"No, I was born and bred in Seoul, and my first language was Korean. I guess I just have a good ear. Now cut to the point."

She fumbled over her words again, looking for a way to get through to the boy and hopefully come up with a pleasing solution for everybody, "Like I said, you could still visit us. I'll even clear out a room for you, where you can stay, for as long as you like."

"What part of 'no' don't you understand?! What language do I have to say it in!? _No, okhi, anio! _Just _no!_"

The Director stood up abruptly, "**Hwoarang, **_**listen to me, **_**don't let your anger go to your head. That is a wonderful deal, it is **_**not **_**as bad as you think! You will still see her, you'll still **_**be **_**with her, don't you understand what they are saying to you?! Don't just... _imprison _yourself **–"

He was met with a closed door.

* * *

The Blood Talon stumbled out of the office. He was on the verge of tears, both of sadness and of anger, and there were many reasons as to why. He scrunched up his fists, angry at Baek for abandoning him and leaving him here to deal with all of this. He was sad that he was gone. He was angry at the Director for finding a family to take away the one thing he had left. He was sad that he couldn't do anything about it.

He stopped at the top of the stairs of the office, and looked to his left, seeing a large, wooden pillar. Clenching his fist, he slammed the side of it into the pillar, hoping to let go of some of the anger and distract him with a sore hand. It worked, to an extent, and thereafter, he walked down the rest of the stairs, lifting his head to see a blurry girl walking towards him – and he knew who it was.

Straightening up and wiping away his tears, he watched as Razer bounded towards him, "What did they want?"

"Just to ask some more questions about the incident," he replied swiftly, "It's why I was crying."

She stood on her toes, his backpack in hand, and hugged him, "Poor thing. Let's go get some food to take your mind off of these things, shall we? They've just started dinner, I'm sure we'll be okay waiting around and stuff. Gives you a chance to calm down a bit more, and we'll get the warmest, freshest food they're offering. It is a win-win situation."

He nodded a little and took her hand, leading her towards the cafeteria.

"Why am I stuck carrying your bag still anyway?"

"Then give it here," he replied, going to tug it off of her shoulders, "Didn't realise it was such a chore."

She released his hand and span around, walking backwards, "I am happy to do it."

"Then don't ask questions," he remarked, grabbing her hand again.

He is a little happier… but he is also angrier.

She tried to listen to the 16-year-old's pointless jabber, and pitched in with an occasional 'yeah' or 'mhm', but her focus was being dragged elsewhere, curtesy of the devil within. She shuddered when images of what they both thought was Baek's death flashed through her mind, along with various other deaths that either had seen, and how it happened. The more she saw, the more down she became, to the point where she had unintentionally dragged Hwoarang down with her.

She had been seated outside, underneath a large tree per Hwoarang's request to 'mind the spot' whilst he went and got food. Nodding, she pried open the bag and put on her scarf, shivering a little. It was a little chilly, but she knew that she would warm up sooner or later. Prying through the rest of the bag, she made sure that the rest of the contents were there – and they were, along with an extra shirt or two that her counterpart had probably stolen.

He eventually returned, baring two plates in his hands. Placing on in her hands, he sat next to her and rested against the tree's trunk close by, and began to eat hurriedly, much to Razer's amusement. He stopped for a moment and looked up, speaking, "Wht?"

"Don't. Talk. With. Your. Mouth. Full."

"Nd. Wht. F. I. Do?"

She narrowed her eyes, shaking her head thereafter, and turned to her plate before her. Lifting some of the food to her mouth, she began to eat. Talk between the pair was minimal, for neither knew what to say nor wanted to make the effort to find a topic to talk about. The events of the past week were exhausting for both of them, let alone confusing.

Hwoarang's head snapped up. He furrowed his eyebrows and stopped eating for a moment, focusing on the coming footsteps. His worst suspicions were correct, as it was the Director and the Theophilus family. He swallowed what was left of the food in his mouth and clenched the ceramic plate tightly, watching as they approached. He smirked a little when they slowed warily. Soon enough, the Director stopped walking, but the family continued, taking a few more steps. The mother occasionally tilted her head, trying to get a better look at his best friend's face, which was currently down and observing the remnants of her dinner.

When she finally looked up, Razer furrowed her eyebrows, realising the strangers and their interest and closeness to her. She moved back towards Hwoarang a little, wondering why they were here; but when she actually looked, she realised that they were not Korean. Confused more so, she opened her mouth and bit out slowly, "Yes?"

"**Hello, Razer,**" the mother said, bowing her head slightly.

Her eyebrows flew up, "**Good afternoon?**"

"**How are you today?**"

"**Fine… What do you want?**"

"**Just to chat,**" she answered, approaching more so. She stopped and smiled, "**How are you faring with your… incident?**"

"**It hurts, but I have to ignore it to help Hwoarang… He is the one who needs attention, not me.**"

"**Of course, of course. The Director already asked how he was doing and so on, but he wanted me to come and talk to you like this. We speak the same language, and therefore you can voice your thoughts unrestricted, because no one except you and I can understand what is being said…**" she paused for a moment and added, chuckling,"**And my husband but, he's a bit of an oaf.**"

Her green eyes darted to the man, who was glaring daggers into the back of his wife's head, albeit in a teasing manner. He looked back her and smiled. Unsure of what else to do or say, she looked at their daughter, who was busy looking at the ground in her flowery, pink dress. Devil spoke to her, She looks so young… She only appears to be about eight or so.

Unsure of what else to say, the mother spoke up again, "**Do you like it here in the foster home?**"

"**To an extent… I do not like being kept apart from Hwoarang, and some of the girls who are around about my age or so tend to pick on me because I am so different from them, but I do not mind. They have tried stealing some contents from the bag over here, but so far they have been unsuccessful. There are a lot of nice people here though, like the Korean boy who is lodged with Hwoarang… He has this long, black hair, down to about here,**" she demonstrated on herself, "**He's pretty cool. But to answer your question… It's… **_**okay.**_"

"**You and your friend obviously dislike being apart then. You're like two sides of the same coin.**"

"**I suppose. Why are you asking me all of these questions?**"

Beside her, Hwoarang could feel himself getting angrier and angrier. He knew why they were here – they wanted to chat with her to see what type of person she was like, and to see if she would want to go to a newer, better life, with or without him. Little did he know, he was being watched by his best friend. He could not see the worry on her face, let alone realise how tense he was in this entire situation.

Unable to help himself, he finally snapped. Abruptly grabbing Razer's wrist, he stood, dragging her along with him, and narrowed his eyes at the strangers surrounding them. Harshly pulling her closer (causing her to stumble), he hissed at them all, walking away with her thereafter with the disguise of returning the dirty dishes, "_**Mine.**_"

As they left, the Director couldn't help but smirk.


	24. Freedom Fighters

_If it is in _normal _style, then it is speech.  
If it is in italics, then it is thought.  
If it is in __**bold,**__ then it is the individual's natural tongue.  
If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil.

* * *

_

Author's Note: So close… to finishing this damn thing… in my writing-ahead-nessness. XD Two chapters away now from his 'adorableness'! XD

* * *

_**Chapter Twenty-Four: Freedom Fighters **_

He sat there with his head in his hands, alone again, pondering the future, _What am I gonna do?_

On the one hand, his best friend would be adopted, and he'd have to stay here. The mother promised him a room, and that she could stay whenever, but that just wasn't enough to him, and he didn't understand why. The deal itself was just what he was looking for – but why was he far too stubborn to take it? Why did he not want to accept what he was looking for? Was it because then he couldn't stay with her all the time? Was it because then that would be accepting and admitting to himself that Baek was dead?

_No, it's none of that. No more families… No more families._

He had one person left in his 'family', in his heart, and he refused to let them go. But how was he going to convince the family and the Director to have him go with her? The only thing he could think of was the Devil Gene, and even if he told them, they would not believe him. He'd also be betraying Athane's trust, and he didn't want that. It'd hurt her like Baek's little disappearing act hurt him.

His fingers tensed, digging into his face. The wound was still raw and open.

"**You look like shit, man,**" one of the other males said. It was the boy with the long hair, who he had finally learnt the name of – Jung-Rok.

"**I **_**feel **_**like shit, so it's understandable that I'd **_**look **_**like shit.**"

He stood up and looked at the wall beside him, his cellphone in his hand. He had called Baek's number a few times, even though he was met with a woman stating that the number did not exist. It was oddly comforting, but harmful at the same time. So harmful this time, in fact, that he didn't bother hanging up after this particular call, and palmed his cellphone into the wall, feeling it smash beneath his hands. He could feel it cutting his skin at some point, but he didn't care.

He would call Changmin and Shin Min, and pray that they had a place for the two of them, but what would he fucking know? He didn't even know his number, let alone where they lived… and if he _did _have either number or address, he didn't anymore because he destroyed his phone. He wondered if they even knew what had happened. He wondered if they cared enough. He wondered if they'd even _help _him in the first place. Sure, he had helped them, but for something as grave and large as this… he wondered…

"**Have some of this,**" Jung-Rok remarked, "**It'll make you feel better. It'll make the problems fade.**"

The sound of swirling liquid got his attention. He lifted his head, seeing Jung-Rok hold an unopened bottle of alcohol, the base of it pointing towards him. Shaking his head, he spoke, "**Nah, its okay. I don't drink, and I'm underage.**"

"**Oh please, because the workers are totally gonna come in here and go 'oh my God, Hwoarang bought all of those drinks and drank them all!'. Just have this one, or at least try it. Makes you forget all your problems… It'll make it easier,**" he tossed it over the two beds between them, watching as with ease, his redheaded friend caught it in both hands, "**It'll make the pain easier. It won't sting as bad.**"

He helplessly shrugged and opened the bottle, hurriedly downing the contents, regardless of the taste, _Anything to make it go away…_

* * *

When he woke up again, it was late afternoon, and Razer had taken to sitting beside him on the floor. She was holding his backpack close to her chest, clinging to it as though it were a lifeline. A pounding headache rung through his head, and he looked away, lifting a hand to it, groaning uncomfortably. That small, verbal stress alerted his best friend to his current state, "You're awake."

"Not so loud," he pleaded.

"Why did you drink? It does not help anybody."

"I just… wanted… to feel less pain."

"If you wanted less pain, then you should have come to me… I would have made it better, by whatever means."

"So you would've sucked me off?" he joked.

"No."

He smiled a little, but it faded as soon as it came, and rolled over onto his stomach, "I feel like an idiot."

"Well I guess then you have learnt your lesson," she spat, "Do not drink again. It gets you nowhere."

"I liked the taste," he retorted flatly, "So, if I wanna drink again, then I will, okay?"

"I don't like it. Just do not do it, _at all._"

"You're not my Mother…" he growled angrily. He sat up hurriedly, ignoring the world spinning around him, and redirected his attention to her, saying, "So don't treat me like I'm your son, because you didn't bring me into this world. I can do what I want, and that's that."

The comment had her curl up more so, but she hissed back just as crossly, "Fine, I'm not your Mother. I do not treat you like you are my son, I treat you like _my best friend, _because _I care,_ dammit_. _Sure, you can do what I want, but I have every right to put in my two cents and tell you that drinking will only cause you _more _problems, _not less. _So just avoid that train wreck altogether, would you?"

He bit his lip, reigning in all desires to yell, and spoke calmly, "Look –"

"No, _you _look! Do you not see what is happening to you?!"

He watched as she abruptly stood up, dropping his backpack. She was also quivering with anger, and for a moment, he saw her eyes turn from the green he loved to the red he did not know; and he opened his mouth to warn her about what was going on, but he was silenced with a raised hand. It didn't stop him from trying again, "_Raze –_"

"You are turning into the selfish asshole I met in the alleys of Seoul, focusing on only yourself! You have _no one _to hide from anymore, Hwoarang! You have _nothing _to hide, either! So why are you pulling up yet another wall and pushing me out…?"

"Razer Athane!" he finally shouted.

She froze.

"_Your eyes _shine _red._"

Run while you can, Devil taunted, Run before I get to him. I know you want this. I know you want to punish him.

Heeding the warning, she turned away, shoving herself past Jung-Rok, unable to hear Hwoarang calling her.

* * *

_Step. Step. Step. Turn. Step. Step. Step. Step. Step. Step. Turn._

"_Let me out! Let me out…" she pulled on the chains holding her back, and though she could hear the steps going around her, although she swore she could _feel _the person around her, she was blinded, and could not see. The darkness was too strong and overpowering, and her eyes could not cut through its depth. Her arms were sore from tugging, and although she longed to see what was going on, she knew she wouldn't be able to. Razer knew that Devil had her body now._

_I'll never let you go,__ Devil cooed, her breath by the ear of her host's mental body. She brushed a hand down the side of her cheek, pulling hair away from her face, and allowed her claws to continue down, until she came to her throat. With force, she grabbed the youth's neck, her voice turning into an inhumane, monstrous hiss, _Never.

_The darkness faded away, dying in a flash of light, and she stood amongst old memories. The pain around her throat was gone. Still bound by chains, the youth was forcibly lead towards the five-year-old in the room. Both Devil and her host stopped just behind the younger version of Razer, who was entertaining herself with the only two dolls she had. She heard slaps and screams earlier, but they seemed to have died down, and although she did not understand what was going on, she was glad that the noise had stopped._

_Do you remember this?__ Devil murmured._

"_Why are you showing me this?" she hissed._

_Father stumbled down the stairs, almost tripping over the final step. The younger Razer looked up, shrinking back a little due to the noise. After a small staring competition, which she thought was fun, she looked back to her toys and continued to play, unaware of what was going on around her, let alone what was in store for her sometime soon._

"_**Razer,**__" Father remarked, "__**Put the toys down. It's time for you to go to sleep.**__"_

_Because…_

"_**But I am not tired…**__"_

…_I want to hold you here, where you _belong. _You don't belong out there. You belong in _here… _You do not deserve your freedom. And you cannot fight for your freedom, no matter how hard you try, because I will hold you back with these chains… _bound _by _me.

"**Sleep,**" _he commanded, clenching his fist._

_I certainly remember this, you know, as it is one of the earliest memories I have when I was in your body… Hey!__ she growled, grabbing her host's jaw, forcing her to look at the scene once again, __Do not turn your head away. Do _not _turn your head awa - …_Or _close your eyes…_ _she pried open one of the Greek's eyes, feeling her try to close it once again, __You cannot escape it. You know you can't, so don't even try._

_She heard the younger version of herself suddenly cry out, and she saw her Father lumber over her, a hand tightly around her upper arm. There was swelling on her right cheek, and she heard the memory of him say, "__**You will do as I say! I am your Father, you must respect me and do everything I ask of you… **_**Everything. **_**You do not fight me like your Mother. You obey. Obey, and you will not face **_**pain.**"

"_Make it stop…"_

_Pardon?_

"_Make it stop!"_

_She smirked, a new idea in hand. She was showing her these images to distract her from what was going on in the outside world… not that she could see anyway. But it helped with the control. She wanted to control her host, and this was the way to do it, because it had her submit, __Very well, I will show you something else then… Something else that I think you will enjoy far more._

_The memory faded, its wisps parting away from each other. In its place was a place she had never seen before, and the smell, whether or not it was due to the dream or what was going on around her, was absolutely terrible and foul. The scene, though, instead of being in third person, was in first person. She looked down, seeing herself, but in Devil's form, if the tattoos were anything to go by. She, though, was not in control of her body, she realised, when she looked back up. _

_A voice echoed through the area, "Hey!"_

_The scene shifted, as though it skipped forward. She had turned around, and saw someone standing there, a few metres away, shaking his head. It was Hwoarang who stood there, hesitantly approaching, terrified and unsure of what to do. It was Hwoarang who was now a few feet away from her, outstretching a hand, hoping to touch her and confirm his fear. It was Hwoarang who was now below her, on the ground, an angered expression contorting his face as she straddled him._

_It was Hwoarang who punched her in the face, trying to get her off of him, demanding his friend back, and consequently had both arms pinned above his head. It was Hwoarang who struggled, who paled when Devil – her – whatever – chuckled darkly, leaning forward to his ear. She felt him still beneath her, as she murmured, __She is not yours… She is mine. She will _always _be mine. I own her, and until I am strong enough to kill her off in her own head and get back into _my _body… I must eliminate those who oppose me._

_First her Mother…__ she chuckled, leaning closer, __Then Baek, through my vessel… And now you._

_The last part of the picture that she saw was the Korean in tears, almost lifeless from the slash across the throat, and a phrase trying to bleed from his mouth, but the three words never –_

"_You bastard…" Razer sobbed, the insult directed at Devil for showing her such a nightmare, "You bastard you bastard – "_

" – you bastard you bastard… You fucking _bastard…_"

The 14-year-old stood up, only to fall back down to the ground. A man lay dead in the middle of the road, in the exact same position as Hwoarang had been from her hands violently trembled, her fingertips bleeding, and she could feel blood drip down the sides of her head and her back, which was usual when she underwent a change. The man was looking up to the sky, his eyes never to blink again, and the horizontal, gaping wound had blood ooze down, staining the person's skin and clothing.

_No more death… _she pleaded, _No more…_

For as long as you are alive, death will be a few steps behind you, my dear…

* * *

"**Oh my God, you're still awake,**" Jung-Rok chuckled, tossing a tennis ball up and down, bored, "**You know, it's like, nine at night. Since you've been here, you've been out like a light at say… six? Why are you still awake?**"

He stood by the door, "**Razer ran off. So I'm waiting for her to come back.**"

Jung-Rok raised an eyebrow, "**She ran away, huh? That's brave of her. Not a lot of kids here have the guts to run off. One of the girls tried running away once, and when she was brought back, she was punished so bad, man… They shouldn't do shit like that to kids. But others have escaped, its not impossible. I ran off once, and they didn't catch me.**"

"**So why did you come back?**"

He shrugged, "**I was bored.**"

Hwoarang smirked a little, "**I see. Got any tips for running away?**"

"**Take supplies,**" he answered, diverting his attention from the ball. He watched as the Blood Talon scuttled away from the door and moved towards his backpack, "**Make sure you've got some clothes, a blanket would be good too because you'd need to sleep out on the streets for a while… A pillow if you can, or you can just make your clothes into a pillow or something. Probably something to entertain yourself with, like a ball. Maybe a pen and paper so you can write some type of pathetic sap story on it to advertise to the world, to get even more money… Dude, are you seriously going to leave?**"

"**They want to take her away from me,**" he replied, "**And I don't want that to happen. They said I can come visit, and stay even, but to me, that's just not enough, you know? I know it's stupid and selfish and… **_**stupid **_**but… No more families…**" he clenched the clothes in his hands, "**No more families. She's all I have now.**"

Jung-Rok pegged the tennis ball at his fellow Korean. He chuckled when it smashed into his back, causing him to jump. After receiving a questioning glare, he answered, "**Take it. You'll be surprised how entertaining that thing is, especially when you're bored shitless on the streets. You'll also need food, but I dunno where you will get that from.**"

"**I nicked some potato chips, donuts and some other stuff from the cafeteria a little while ago,**" he answered, "**Should be enough for a while, I hope.**"

"**Use your money to get food, but don't waste all of it… Oh! Also, make sure you park yourself near a public toilet,**" he closed his eyes, rummaging around the side of his bed, "**They're very convenient, because not only can you go and do your business, but you can grab some water from the sinks…**" he pegged an empty water bottle at him, ignoring his hiss of 'stop that', "**You guys can use that. Just wash it first I guess. As for showers, hop on down to the swim centre, exercise, then have a shower. Buy your soap and stuff, and whatever else you need for that, like towels.**"

"**What about clothes? How would we wash them?**"

"**Laundromat. Or if you wanna take the cheap option, go wash them in a sink or something with soap. Soap runs out fast though so I think it's probably better to go to the Laundromat. Steal some new clothes every so often too, especially shirts and underwear. They wear out the fastest. Have you got a sweater?**"

"**Yes.**"

"**Good, won't have to throw this one at you then,**" Jung-Rok answered, releasing a holey, knitted grey sweater.

Hwoarang's old, lopsided smirk soon appeared, as he slid the now _very _heavy backpack onto his back. Sitting up and stretching, he looked to his friend, "**Anything else you wanna give me tips on?**"

"**Stick to the streets in the day,**" he replied, "**Find somewhere warm at night, and I fucking mean this Hwoarang, you will want somewhere **_**warm. **_**Be indoors. They'll look for you, so be on alert. They usually stop looking after about two or so weeks. Mr Chung's nice and all but he doesn't have time to waste, so if he loses some of the kids, then he loses some of them. That's what he's always said to us.**"

He nodded, and moved to the door again, placing a hand on it, "**Thank you.**"

"**Good luck.**"

He slipped out, not looking back. He wanted his freedom, and he was going to fight for it, no matter what.

* * *

"There you are."

"Hwoarang – "

"Shut up," he growled, grabbing her wrist, "Follow me."

Razer quirked an eyebrow, following despite her shaky composure, "Where are we going?"

"Away from here."

"Why?"

"Because this place sucks and we don't need them."

"That is not a suffice ans –"

Her mouth was covered. Hwoarang leant in close and whispered, "We're running away, because this place sucks. That's it. There's your answer, alright? All we have to do is escape unnoticed. If you _haven't _noticed, there are a couple of security guards around here, for whatever reason, so we need to sneak around them and hightail it out of here. I don't know where we'll go, so don't ask me. Just follow me. I've got the bag with some extra stuff. Now, I want you to be quiet, and follow me. Understood?"

She nodded. Removing his hand, he pulled on her arm gently, peeking around the corner of the boy's dorm. Once the two passing guards left, their backs to one another, they snuck past them, aiming to get to the western exit, for it was the closest to them. As they moved, though, Razer continued to question Hwoarang's motives, knowing that 'this place sucks' was a guise for his true reason. She was still tired and sore from the events that had transpired earlier, and the return to the foster home was difficult.

It seemed one of the men had seen them out of the corner of his eye. He turned, a small flashlight in hand, and pointed around the area, following the light source. When it settled on the sneaking pair, he bellowed, "**Where do you think you two are going?! Go back inside!**"

Instead of obeying the order, the pair broke into a run.

Realising that they were trying to escape, he bumbled after them with the nearby accomplices. One of the other guards alerted the others on the premises to the current situation, and another yelled, "**Get back here! You're not going anywhere!**"

Are you going to listen to his nonsensical _jabbering?_ Devil scoffed, Keep going.

They ran blinded to the lights illuminating the exit. They turned the corner, spotting another small cohort of security guards, and began to go around them, only to have one catch Razer on the leg, aiming to pull her back. The others slowly approached. She shook her leg violently, holding onto Hwoarang, refusing to be pried apart; and she used his grip as leverage for a moment, jumping up and kicking the guard in the head with the other leg, watching him drop off like a fly.

They continued to run, soon enough leaving behind the guards, and slipped through the exit. Turning to their left, they continued to run, coming to the building next to the foster home, and running past numerous other buildings. They followed the pathway, and Razer voiced her thoughts again, "Hwoarang, where are we going to go then…? If we leave here, where will we go and how will we survive? Are you sure you're doing the right thing!?"

"Train station," he answered, "We can hide there until all of this blows over. We can survive in there, because its warm, and there'll be toilets nearby, and we can buy food from the small stores around the place, and we can find a way to get more money from the people… and if we have to leave, we can jump onto the train and get off at another stop, away from here," he looked over his shoulder, watching the men come after them.

"Are you sure that you are doing the right thing?!" she yelled again.

He didn't know.

"Hwoarang Maeng, answer me!"

He pulled her aside, into a small alleyway, and thanked the darkness as the men ran straight by, unable to see the two of them. Once the last person had run, he dared to stick his head around the corner, seeing that they had long vanished. Looking back to the foster home one last time, he pulled his best friend along and ran across the road, "We're almost there."

Her legs ached, but she kept up with him, _Why isn't he answering me?_

Raze… I do not think he knows the answer himself.

Down the stairs.

He is just as afraid as you are, but if he wants freedom and he wants you by his side, you should go, for whatever reason.

Turn the corner.

He'll look after you.

Stop.


	25. Selfish Love

_If it is in _normal _style, then it is speech.  
If it is in italics, then it is thought.  
If it is in __**bold,**__ then it is the individual's natural tongue.  
If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil._

Author's Note: Posted this because I wanted an excuse to say Merry Christmas to you guys, lol XD Not much progress writing wise since the last chapter though, sigh… Hope you guys get all the stuff you want and what not. Have a lovely day, and enjoy the update.

* * *

_**Chapter Twenty-Five: Selfish Love**_

She covered her mouth and coughed, shivering slightly due to the cold.

Hwoarang furrowed his eyebrows, dropping his stance, "Are you sure you're alright? You sound really sick."

"Bleh… I'll be fine," Razer answered, rubbing her face.

"Do you still wanna do this at the moment? We can postpone it…"

"I will be fine."

She threw the first kick to restart the match, watching it smash into his hip.

It had been two months since they ran away. They had been searched for only in the first two weeks, like Jung-Rok said, and after that, they did not see anyone from the foster home come after them again. In the mean time, Razer had turned fifteen, at last, and she had thought of a way to keep money coming in for the two of them, even though it was barely enough. They decided to put their martial arts skills to use, and would spar one another in the underground train station. They would take bets on who would win, and so on and so forth. She didn't quite remember the rest of the system, but Hwoarang took to it and ran with it.

Occasionally, they had been broken up by the police, and would instead take it to another train station. They had since hopped five stops down from the original one they started on, and had not been back for about a week or two now. In the mean time, both tried to think of a place to go, aside from sitting here with the other homeless people.

"Come on kid, kick her ass!" a thin, American with curly blond hair shouted.

He launched his fist, slamming it into her jaw, watching as she was forced into the air. He span around and kicked her back into the ground, hating every moment of it. Watching as she stood to her feet, he blocked what he thought was a coming low kick, but he had been deceived, and copped the blow to his head, sending him back a few feet. He stood, dizzy, and held his head, weaving underneath another flurry of kicks, and grabbed her forearm, throwing her into the opposite wall.

When she smashed into it, he bit his lip and watched her fall to the ground. He could hear her go into yet another coughing spasm, and she was clearly shaking. He waited for her to raise her hand in surrender, and when it came, he ran over and helped her up, muttering 'I'm sorry' repeatedly under his breath; and she patted his arm, replying 'good match'.

Walking her back to their little spot, he sat her down before taking the money from the bets. He looked at the small crowd that had gathered, who was begging for more, and he shook his head, raising a hand, "**No more today. Thanks for betting.**"

In annoyance, they dispersed.

Slipping the money into his wallet, he grabbed one of the blankets he managed to steal from the orphanage and wrapped it around Razer, thereafter holding her against him. He watched as she continued to cough, and he was hating himself for it. Grabbing a bottle of water, he placed it in her lap, "Drink it, it should help with the coughing."

She unscrewed the lid with shaking hands and did as he asked.

"You're sick," he stated blankly.

"No shit Sherlock," she spluttered, swallowing the liquid, thereafter closing the bottle.

"No more fighting for a while, okay? Not until you're better."

"But –"

"No, no buts. We've got enough for now, alright? Let's focus on getting you better first."

The Greek curled up a little, pressing a hand to her stomach. Looking up, she saw that he had noticed the act, and, ignoring the quirked eyebrow, she awkwardly answered for him, "Eh… Women's problems as well as a cold."

"Oh… I see."

Silence.

Soon enough, the 16-year-old started to shuffle through the money to see how much was made and whether not they could afford to spend some. Figuring it should be okay, he grabbed some and stuffed it into his pocket, abruptly standing to his feet, glancing at her, "I'm going to get you some cough medicine, okay? Stay here, I'll be quick."

She was unable to tell him not to bother or worry due to the current coughing fit she was in. She simply watched him dissolve into the crowd. Wrapping the blanket tighter around herself, she leant into his corner and kept her eye on the bag, simply staring at the black object blankly, awaiting his return. Her stomach grumbled, demanding to be fed, and she ignored the craving, for whatever food they had left had to be kept for as long as possible. She'd never been so hungry in her life.

Just take something! Devil hissed, This hunger is unbearable!

_My body, my rules. I am not touching any of the food until Hwoarang comes back._

You are _pathetic, _mortal, absolutely _pathetic._ You cannot even fulfil your basic, human needs.

_Speaking of, you're a demon. You are just a spirit. Why are _you _hungry?_

I am _in your body, _you fool, so I feel everything you feel, even your love for this _idiot_… Devil suddenly smirked, an idea forming. Although she knew better, she decided to worsen the Greek's mood and lie, And however strong it may be, not only will it never be known to him but, it will never be returned. He does not care about you, he's using you to keep himself… _entertained._

Although the blow did make her a little unhappier, she saw through it to an extent, _They may never be returned, but I know he cares and is not using me in any way._ She began to cough again, her throat burning from it. Placing a hand there, she massaged it lightly, feeling dizzy from the spasm, and exhaled. She rarely got sick, why did this have to happen now? _Geez, how did Changmin manage to go through all of this so easily? This is terrible._

Speaking of Hwoarang's other loser friends, why have they not tried to find him, and why did he not decide to go to them instead?

It was a good point. Razer wished she knew the answer. Hoping to divert the topic, she suddenly asked, _Do you have any friends? Or family, for that matter._

Friends? No. Family? Yes, somewhere. Half of me is missing. I want to know where it is. When I am strong enough to overpower you, or when you are weak enough to give into me, I will be leaving your Korean friend and finding the rest of me, wherever I am. It feels like… she paused, frowning a little, It feels like I am only have the demon I should be… and the rest of me feels close by but, never close enough to reach. It's really saddening.

_I'm glad,_ she hissed, _that it is _saddening_ for you. You will get no sympathy from me._

I hate you, mortal.

_Hate you too._

A square package skidded across the ground, resting against her left knee. Athane looked down, studying it for a moment, before realising what it was, starting to blush in embarrassment. Looking to the direction it had come from, seeing familiar shoes. Ascending her line of sight, she saw Hwoarang standing there awkwardly, the cough medicine in the other hand (with a _receipt, _she noticed), and watched as he approached to sit, clearing his throat to try and break up their discomfort, "Um… Go do what you need to do."

Snatching up the item, she scurried off to the nearest toilets. The Blood Talon ungracefully sat, legs outstretched, and read the description on the bottle so he could tell her what to take and how much of it. It annoyed him that she still fought against him, knowing that she was ill. People had to be selfish sometimes, and with the way things were at the moment, she was clearly trying to be selfless, for whatever idiotic reason. She needed to prioritise things, and her health was one of them. If she wouldn't prioritise it, then he would.

She eventually returned, clearly more settled, and sat next to him, throwing the blanket around the two of them loosely. The youth pulled her knees up to her chest, and rested her head on his shoulder, "Thanks."

"S'fine," he answered, still reading, patting her thigh.

* * *

The week that passed was very uneventful. With one of the two out of action, money could not be raked in. They had gathered a bit of won from others who were feeling sorry for them, but it really wasn't enough to get some more food. Hwoarang had given half of his lunch to Razer, despite her continuous protests, and had successfully forced her to shut her eyes and sleep, to 'fight off the cold' only an hour ago in the chilly night. Yet despite sleeping, she was still coughing.

He felt so guilty.

_You wouldn't be sick… if I let them take you, _he thought to himself, placing a hand to her forehead. It was hot, yet she was shuddering as though she were freezing. He placed his other hand to his forehead, and realised that she now had a fever. Conflicted, he gave up his half of the blanket and wrapped it around her again loosely,_ I don't know any doctors around here, let alone hospitals… Maybe I should just take you back._

The coughing got worse. Soon enough, she had coughed herself awake, and held a hand to her head. Unsure of what to do next, he tentatively placed an arm around her and drew her close, having her settle into his side. He looked around the isolated train station again, seeing no people in the area. A small wind from the exit nearby was blowing up the lonely newspapers, and there were no trains passing through any of the passageways. But most of all, it was absolutely freezing. But what else could he expect at midnight?

"Hwoarang…"

"Don't talk, you'll start coughing."

"But –"

Low and behold, she started again, and he said, "I told you not to talk."

"I can barely breathe, I can barely move… I understand what Changmin meant when he used to say 'feels like I'm gonna die'; that is exactly how I feel at the moment."

"Don't be so overdramatic."

"I'm scared, Hwoarang," she remarked, pulling the blankets closer around herself, "I don't like living like this, not knowing what will happen the next day on such a large level… Not knowing what is going on around me. This whole unpredictable nature is such a far cry from the life we lived with Baek," she noticed him flinch, but continued on, her voice shaking and wavering, "Do you think we can get back that life again and have it stable? Where we don't fear for our lives in some way?"

He shrugged, "Dunno. Hope so, though. Go back to sleep."

"Not until you tell me why we came out here."

"_Sleep, _Raze."

"But…"

Another coughing fit. The Blood Talon suppressed his remorse again and patted her on the back, hoping to ease it this time, but to no avail. He quickly broke when the cough didn't, and turned wholly to face her, placing both hands on her cheeks, stroking the skin lightly, "Its okay, I'm here… When the coughing fit is gone, don't talk, because it'll come back, and I'm serious here. So just shut up and go back to sleep, because then it won't bug you as much."

And then he saw it – tears. His first wall of defence now gone, the second broke just as fast at the sight.

"Hey, come on," he remarked, tensing when he felt the liquid drip onto his thumbs, "It's okay. There's no need to cry."

"My throat…" she rasped, "burns… My head _aches, _and I'm so cold…"

"Cold? You're hotter than I am. You have a fever, dude."

"I am _shivering. _How can I have a _fever?_"

"It's the sickness," he answered, letting go of her face. Pulling the Greek close again, he leant back, resting his head on the concrete wall. Watching as she followed, he repeated for the umpteenth time, "Now, try and go to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."

"I think _you _should sleep. You have bags under your eyes, you have not slept for days. And you're _freezing _to touch Hwoarang."

"I can go for a fair while without sleeping. _You, _however, are sick. Therefore you need much more sleep than I do. As for the blanket, I'm fine."

She sobbed as another coughing fit came in.

Angry that he could allow something like this to happen, he pulled her into his lap and caged her in his arms, feeling his own eyes well with tears of frustration at himself, and sadness for her, "The reason we left… was because I wanted you to myself. I was greedy. I'm still greedy. If I can't have you, _no one _can."

"You're not making sense…"

"They found a family for you," he replied hesitantly, "A Greek one that lived in the country side. They already had a Korean daughter. They were going to adopt you, but they couldn't afford to take me as well. Plus, the orphanage said I was too old to be adopted anyway, and that once I was on my feet again after… what happened… I'd be on my way. That's why they came up and spoke to you. They wanted to get to know you a bit before coming to take you.

"When the Director called me up to talk, it wasn't about Baek, it was about you and your future. The family said that I could come with them and stay with you, because they…" he paused for a moment, refraining from saying 'because they realised I love you', "…because they realised that I needed you, and visa versa. Looking back… I should've let you go, because I would've ended up coming with you anyway. I… I'm really, really sorry."

"You were crying… because of me?"

"Yes."

"And now…?" she asked, reaching up to touch the tracks on his cheeks, still in tears herself, "Why are you crying now?"

"Because you're crying," he answered, and it suddenly became easier to say the next sentence, "You're breaking my heart to see you like this…" Realising what he had said, he hurriedly added, "And you're _sick, _and it's _my fault._"

Razer nodded a little, dropping her hand again, pulling it close to her body. She could not hear Devil, for she was at work trying to get rid of the fever, and her head was throbbing. Her gaze was still set on the Korean, who had finally looked away and was looking straight ahead of himself into nothingness. Maybe it was the fever, maybe it was because in her delirious state, she saw something; but her mouth opened, again, and after inhaling deeply to try and control her hiccuping sobs, she called his name. He immediately looked back at her, his face hard and firm, trying to keep control of himself for her sake.

And then it came, "I love you."

Their unspoken bond was broken.

His final line of defence was cleaved in two. His mind reeled, he tried to scramble up a reply, _in English, _but he was left speechless and unsure of himself. He sounded like a jabbering idiot, but all of his jabbering never strung itself together, and he was practically screaming 'I love you too' inside, and another part of his mind was just repeating over and over 'say it say it say it say it say it'; but not so much as a coherent peep left his quivering lips.

The tears seemed to multiply when he realised that for the first time in eleven years, someone told him that he was loved. Whether or not it was true or it was something that just popped out due to the fever, he didn't know, but that very fact warmed him as much as it stung him. He noticed that her eyes no longer bled tears, but her eyelids were growing heavy. If he didn't say something soon, or at least tell her in some way, shape or form that he felt the same, then he would never be able to find the right moment again.

Thinking quickly, he grabbed her hand and squeezed it, thereafter pulling it to his chest, pressing it against his heart. Her eyes opened a little more, as though trying to stay awake, awaiting some type of response. He then pulled her hand up to his lips and kissed the back of her hand, then each of her knuckles, and on the final one, he stopped and said firmly, though his unguarded heart was breaking inside, "Sarang hae."

_Because I'm too much of a coward to say it in a way you'll understand…_

"What does it… mean?" she asked, eyes closing.

He couldn't even answer her, and if he could, she probably would not hear, for she was finally asleep. Caught up in a whirlwind of emotions, he lightly let go of her hand, watching as it came to rest against her body underneath the blanket. Holding her head against his chest, he blankly stared into space, _This whole living thing… The fight to survive… The want to live… Will always be strong. But the struggle to do it…_

A small smirk appeared, as he affirmed, "It's not over. Not until I say so."

Neither would speak of that night again. Neither would allow it to be buried under years of memories.


	26. Another to Trust

_If it is in _normal _style, then it is speech.  
If it is in italics, then it is thought.  
If it is in __**bold,**__ then it is the individual's natural tongue.  
If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil.

* * *

_

_**Chapter Twenty-Six: Another to Trust **_

She eventually got better. It took her a while, but she got better.

June slid by, and September was here. In those months, they had travelled to most of Seoul's districts to showcase their fighting skills. They had become quite popular, but sadly, the more attention they got, the more often their fights were broken up by the authorities. Hwoarang had tried to explain once that it was for a show, that they weren't actually 'fighting' – needless to say, he was still told to quit it.

They were currently in one of the south-western districts, far away from the river that divided the city. They had left their fighting for another day, and were roaming the area, looking for something to entertain themselves, or for somewhere to set up some type of home, because as things were now, their faces were becoming all too common in the train stations, to the point where police would warn them that if they saw an attack at either, they'd be thrown out of the area.

"I think what we're looking for is an abandoned building," Hwoarang suggested, sliding through the long alleyways. He looked over his shoulder, making sure that Razer was still close by, and continued to speak, "like a shop or something because, nobody's gonna go and grab an abandoned, worn down shop and go 'hey, I'm gonna revamp this and use it for my shitty little business!'. At least, I hope not."

Their searches had so far been pointless. No district had empty stores, and it was quite disheartening. They still didn't give up, though, until their stomachs demanded sustenance. Settling on some form of crappy junk food, they abandoned their search and wandered all the way to the main mall, easily locating the junk food area, ordering what they wanted, before relocating to a small, empty table nearby to eat in silence and in wonder.

Although neither spoke of _that _particular night, it was still weighing heavily on their thoughts. Razer wanted to know why Hwoarang had acted a little strangely around her thereafter, but more so if she said anything to make it happen, because she honestly didn't remember. Devil did, and she told her, but she just couldn't exactly grasp the concept that she told him _her feelings. _Devil continued to grin and laugh at her, though, when she told him that he was completely stunned.

She left out the hand and knuckle kissing, let alone the tears and the small, happy smile.

But it got her thinking, why did she love him? Was it because he saved her, or because she had nobody else here? Was it because he was simply attractive, or because his personality was attractive? Or were there other things she didn't even know about inside of her that made her gravitate towards him in such a manner? Why did she care? Or was it all of that?

It is difficult to question a heart, let alone get an answer.

Hwoarang soon interjected, munching on his hotdog, "So…"

"What?"

"Reckon we should try and fight in the streets this time? I dunno about customers, but, at least we won't get into as much trouble or anything, you know?"

"I suppose. But it is your choice. For now, just focus on eating – _don't talk with your mouth full, _before you try."

He smirked.

* * *

Left. Left. Left. Right.

Mid. Mid. Mid. Low.

The kick caught her on the knee, and she buckled due to the nature of the strike. His boot collided with her chin, though there was not enough force behind it to severely wound her, because he didn't have the heart to do that in the first place. The second one hit the back of her head, and, disorientated, she still launched an onslaught of kicks herself, aiming each one at an unguarded joint.

Anticipating her moves because he had fought against her so much, Hwoarang avoided each strike, the only cop out being one major blow to his knee. He parried a coming elbow strike, launching a knee strike only to have it parried as well. Machine Gun Kicks soon followed, and he kept his arms up to guard. After the final kick, he span around, conducting Misdemeanour, and released a breath he didn't know he was holding when she parried it and matched his kick with one of her own. It hit him in the back of the head and having him fall to the ground instead.

She sidestepped as he stood, a small kick missing her, and flickered her left leg back and forth, and like so many of her other attacks, it was blocked. Switching feet and still in the Flamingo Stance, she raised her right leg, conducting Snap Kick, watching her heel forcefully tap the top of his head, making him stumble back, a hand to his head. Razer approached again, doing Rusty Knife, the back of her fist connecting with his stomach, making him reel forward slightly.

Before anything else could put him in such pain, the Korean ducked under another Snap Kick, grabbing the girl around the legs, lifting her off the ground slightly in a tackle, hearing her hiss in pain when her back collided with the uneven concrete. No matter how many times he struck her in a fight, he still felt guilty, and he knew she was in the same boat. He saw fire in her eyes, and she was angry at what they had to do to survive, and in the heat of the battle, she kneed him in the crotch, causing his face to contort, pain written all over it.

"_Shit… _Fuuuck," he growled, getting off of her immediately before going to lie against the wall thereafter, holding the wounded area. He closed his eyes, his expression scrunched up, before saying louder, "**I'm done. Pay up.**"

Disgruntled men and women handed over their various chunks of change to the waiting woman, who was biting her lip. Once the people had dispersed, she put the change in her pocket, making a mental note to remind herself later to give it to Hwoarang, and moved over to the said person, sitting beside him as he tried to breathe through the agony she had inflicted on him, "Sorry."

"Don't do it again," he hissed, "You got me in the balls. That's like if I falcon punched you in the vagina."

"Falcon punch…?"

"You know, Captain Falcon from those old F-Zero games. 'Falcoooooon _puuuunch!_' and stuff."

"…Right."

They sat there for several minutes in silence. Hwoarang looked to the sky, seeing how darkness was bleaching it, and how the clouds were invading. The wind had picked up, blowing his hair around again, and he felt Razer press closer to him in an effort to stay warm. Deciding that it was time to leave, he stood, albeit shakily, and offered his hand to her, "I say we get out of here and try and get a decent night's sleep. Good fight. It's not often you can match up with me to the extent you did today… even if you won by a low blow."

"I was actually aiming for your stomach," Razer replied, now on her feet, releasing his hand. She grabbed the backpack.

"Considering I was _on top _of you," he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, ignoring her rolling her eyes. They began to walk slowly down the alleyway, knowing that this one would take them back to the train station, where they would stay for the night, "there's no way you would've been able to get my stomach."

"So I decided to feel you up with my knee," she deadpanned sarcastically, feeling rain start to pour down.

"My balls and I would've much preferred your hands."

"Stop thinking with your dick."

"Never!"

Stop walking.

Heeding the message, Razer indeed stopped. She furrowed her eyebrows and looked up to the sky, watching as the rain fell in its masses. A lightning strike illuminated the otherwise gloomy area, if only for a brief moment. She inhaled, smelling someone else here, not too far away. She looked to Hwoarang, slightly worried, and also amused at how his hair was now sticking to his face due to the weight of the water.

She took a few steps forward, unsure of herself, Someone could be following the two of you, demanding their money back. You are, after all, technically cheaters… Someone could be following you, trying to rob you – or kill you, amongst other things. I highly advise charging down this alleyway and hiding in the train station with Hwoarang until you cannot smell the person anymore.

The scent was pleasing, but the thoughts and possibilities behind it, generated by the devil within, were not. Pulling the straps of the backpack closer to her body, she continued to walk, only faster this time. The Korean was by her side, and as they walked, she kept a sharp lookout for that scent, in case it got any closer or any stronger. Hwoarang was concerned by her sudden stop, but remained chatty as always, now asking about why it 'just _had _to rain today, it just _had to, _didn't it?'.

As they walked, they passed numerous, vacant, smaller alleyways, all of which the Greek peered down for a moment. She saw a cat down one, pawing through the garbage can, and otherwise, just other rubbish here and there. It was not a pleasing sight, and she wondered why these parts of the district went untended like this. Graffiti markings were strewn all over the walls in undistinguishable patterns, and several cigarette butts and broken beer bottles welcomed the pair at every entrance.

They passed a particular alley, and Razer saw someone leaning against the wall. She stopped and stared at him, identifying him as the source of the scent. The Blood Talon was still walking ahead of her, having not noticed the boy, though he had jumped at a particularly loud thunderclap. She was transfixed with the boy, hearing him sniffle above the rain.

He was only young, a little younger than they, and it appeared that he had only been recently thrown out onto the streets. His clothes were newer than theirs, and no where near as filthy. He had black flip-flops on his feet, baggy black pants, and a zipped up blue jumper, which appeared to be quite thin. It ran all the way down his arms, and all the way up his neck. She could barely see his face, but there was an undeniable frown. His eyes were shielded by his matted black hair, and by the flattened cardboard box he was holding over his head, to shelter himself from the rain.

Hwoarang was now aware that she had stopped. He turned around, seeing her go down the alleyway, and, confused, followed to a point, seeing the boy there. Razer was approaching him cautiously, and tripped over another cracked bit of concrete, alerting the boy to her presence. He looked up hurriedly, terrified, angry, hurt and confused, and watched as she took more steps towards him.

He backed up, dropping the cardboard box, and scrunched up his face a little, annoyed by the heavy pelting of the rain. The Blood Talon was slightly amused by this, but also approached the boy, watching as the Greek held out her hand and spoke to him softly, sympathy clear in her voice, "Come with us."

He didn't say anything and merely looked at her, still confused.

Razer looked to Hwoarang, before looking at the boy again, repeating, "Come with us."

"**I… I don't understand what you're saying to me.**"

Hwoarang was now by her side and murmured to her, "He doesn't speak English…" He thereafter turned to the boy, acting as a translator, his face stern, "**She said 'come with us'. You're like us, so just come with us for a while and stuff so you can get back on your feet. I'm Hwoarang, by the way, and she's Razer. So come on.**"

His amber eyes strayed from his fellow man to the woman before him, and hesitantly, he inched out his hand and placed it firmly in her own. Grasping it lightly, he was pulled up to his feet, and smiled a little when she smiled at him. He let go of her hand and wrung his wrists, not having anything else to twist in his hands. Nervously, his mouth opened and closed, wanting to say something but unsure of what.

The 'Razer' girl said something to Hwoarang, still looking at him. She turned away and started to walk, and the redhead followed, motioning for the youth to follow him. Hwoarang asked, "**She asked for your name. What's your name?**"

He looked down to the ground, following the new people he needed to learn to trust, and sniffled, "**Seong-Hada.**"

* * *

Author's Note: Iiiiits _Seong-Hada _baby! XD. First update of the new year, hope you guys had an epic one! –goes to write the rest of this story before you guys catch up to me too fast-


	27. Trio

Author's Note: …I am at such a wall with this fic that I've practically lost all motivation for it. But it's okay because for the few of you guys that still read it, I'm still trying to write it! So, support would really be appreciated right now, because it'll help. Also! I got a few new commissions since I last updated! If you go to my author page under "STORY-RELATED STUFFS", you'll see a new commission of Razer (with Hwoarang! XD) and one of Seong-Hada baaaby! :3 Also I think it was around here that my spell checker died AGAIN. Lol. Anyway. Enjoy~…

* * *

_**Chapter Twenty-Seven: Trio **_

Seong-Hada.

He's a strange little fellow, Devil mused, watching him with her host. He was walking with them, staying on Razer's side and away from the other man, and so far had been with them for a grand total of two weeks, He's still edgy around the two of you. Look at him, wringing his hands over and over again, looking at his feet, trying to be calm, unsure of what he should do. That language barrier is going to be a difficult one to overcome if you wish to learn anything more about him, because from what I can see, Hwoarang does not necessarily want him around.

_Why, though? He's not doing anything._

No, she replied, but you are giving him more attention than you are giving the redhead.

The youth, who turned out to be 14-years-old, nervously looked between the two again. He could feel tension, and he knew it was because of his entry. From what he had seen glimpses of, there was a lot of history between the pair, and a lot of unsaid things that were dying to come out. Still, he couldn't help but feel deep gratitude for taking him in. Perhaps in time, he could become their friends.

He definitely wanted to try and talk to Razer, if only to say thank you for considering him and helping him. But he didn't know any English, and he was sure that she didn't know any Korean. With the way Hwoarang was around him, he wasn't sure if he could talk 'through' him, so to say. And through all of the pointless wandering around this mall, he wondered how he could get through that layer of defence. People aren't supposed to be cocooned like that.

The trio came to a stop. Seong-Hada looked at the two of them, seeing that they were talking. Razer scuttled off and out of sight, and he wondered why for a moment, but it was cleared up when she entered a bookstore. He moved over towards Hwoarang, "**I take it she likes to read?**"

"**A lot,**" he answered firmly.

"**Am I… doing something wrong by being here?**"

"**No,**" he bit out, looking at his fellow Korean, "**But I **_**really**_** don't take well to new people.**"

He bit his lip and nodded firmly, running a hand through his black hair, "**Could you teach me some English so I can thank her properly and talk to her properly, instead of hand signals and talking through you? I don't want to trouble you like I am…**"

"**We'll see,**" he peered into the shop, agitated, before entering, "**What's taking her so goddamn long? So much for 'wistfully browsing'.**"

Seong-Hada remained outside, patiently waiting as though he were a dog waiting for his master's return. His head turned to the next store, seeing numerous televisions playing the same drama. Bored, he tuned in, listening to what was going on. So far he was making sense of it, until he heard a word that he immediately identified to be English. Determined to absorb it into his memory, he sounded it out repeatedly, and looked to the bookstore door as both people exited again.

He started to wave at them, "Beibi!"

They looked at each other before looking back with a raised eyebrow each.

Nervously, he smiled, "**…Uh?** **Hwoarang, what did I just say? Is it bad?**"

"**You said 'baby'. As in, you know,**" he pretended to cradle a child, "**A **_**baby **_**baby?**" he then stopped, "**Also means the whole 'hey, baby' thing, which is how that came across, so…**"

"**It doesn't mean 'hi'?**"

"**Pfft, no!**"

He frowned and scratched his cheek, "**Sorry for trying, then…**"

Annoyed, Hwoarang rolled his eyes and started to walk again, passing his younger accomplices. Razer looked at both men for a moment, confused by the exchange, before approaching the disheartened Seong-Hada. He looked up when she was standing right in front of him, and watched as she waved at him a little and spoke, "Annyeong-haseyo."

"**You know Korean?**" he asked, excited and hopeful.

She furrowed her eyebrows, not understanding what he said.

"**Not enough, obviously…**" he muttered to himself.

"Annyeong-haseyo…" she waved, then paused, "Hello."

He quirked an eyebrow for a moment, "Heh… llo?"

"Hello… ida… annyeong-haseyo."

"**Ahhh!**" he understood now. This 'hello' _is _'annyeong-haseyo', and waved again, "Hello!"

She smiled and nodded her head, thereafter turning to follow Hwoarang, who was now way up ahead. Grinning to himself and pleased, Seong-Hada turned and followed her too, his hands in his pockets, _Two words down, another… er… A lot more to go!_

* * *

Their stomachs eventually lead them to a small fast food store by the side of a major road. All the while, Razer would point out something to Seong-Hada, give him the English word, and he would mutter it numerous times under his breath, trying to commit it to memory. It was obvious to her that he really wanted to speak with her on his own and have her understand. She admired his enthusiasm and determination, and wished for a moment that she had been this enthusiastic and determined when she was learning English originally.

And so whilst Hwoarang was ordering food, the pair were sitting by a circular table outside the store. Both were unaware of the Blood Talon's numerous glances. She tapped the surface of the furniture that she was leaning on, "Table."

"Tey… ble."

She waved her hand from side to side, indicating to him that it was right, but not quite.

"_Ta_-ble."

She nodded, approving in Korean. She still found it strange that one of the Korean words for 'yes' was the same as it was in Greek, "Ne."

He nodded again and then pointed to the chair, shrugging.

"Chair."

"Ch…ai…r. Chair!"

"Ne."

"**Yes! So…**" he started to count on his fingers, imitating the basic actions or pointing to the words he had learnt today, "Baby," he pointed to a baby nearby, "hello," he waved, "yes," he nodded, "no," he shook his head, "maybe," he moved his hand from side to side, "shirt," he tugged at Razer's shirt, "sun," he pointed to the sun, "car," he pointed to a parked car, "um…brella," he still had trouble with the word, and pointed to the object that was shading them from the sun, "table," he pointed to the table, "chair." he tapped the chair.

She nodded and clapped, pleased with what an hour's work had done so far. She outstretched a hand, hoping for a high-five.

He stretched his hand out too and lightly hit it, still grinning like mad, "**Thank you!**"

_SLAM!_

Both people jumped, watching as an obviously angry Hwoarang placed their drinks and food on the table, and wedged himself between them. He dug through the plastic bag and grabbed his meal, thereafter tucking into his food. Whatever happy mood had been established beforehand was now entirely dead. Razer sank into her chair and pulled out her own meal, noticing it was a fruit salad, and slowly began to tuck into it.

Seong-Hada slowly picked at his fish and chips, speaking to the other Korean, "**So, now I know a couple of words. What was so hard about you showing me like a 'yes' or a 'no' or even a 'hi'?**" he swallowed and coughed, "**How bad are you around new people anyway? I don't like seeing you like this, you know.**"

"**You don't even **_**know **_**me,**" the 16-year-old seethed, clenching his fists.

Razer continued to watch the exchange. Seong-Hada was chirpy and lively, deterred in some instances, but not backing down. He was obviously trying to make conversation with Hwoarang, or to become his friend, at least. The other youth, however, clearly did not want to speak, and there was something irritating him. She was feeling very uncomfortable around him.

Haven't you noticed, Devil began, that when he's just around you, he's fine? But if Seong-Hada is with you two, he is pretty uncomfortable himself? Did you not notice him glancing at you two every five seconds while he was ordering food? He hates it when you are alone with him, whether it is because he's afraid that the kid will do something to you, or not.

_What the hell could Seong-Hada do? _she asked incredulously.

I do not know. Face it, until he knows English or you learn Korean, you do not know what he is talking about, let alone what is going on in his head… and because of this, he is dangerous.

"**Hwoarang?**"

Agitation was apparent, "**What now?**"

"**Could you tell her that I like her eyes?**"

He stiffened and growled under his breath. He was sure he was going to bust his knuckles from clenching his fists so tightly. Suddenly smirking, because the malevolent idea he had now was just too good to pass up, he turned his head to the Greek and nudged her with his foot, "Hey, Raaaazerrrr?"

"Mm?"

"Seong-Hada – or SH, as you like to call him – said to say that he likes your tits, a lot."

She furrowed her eyebrows questioningly at Hwoarang, who shrugged nonchalantly and returned to his meal. She looked at Seong-Hada, who smiled and did the 'peace' sign when he realised he had her attention. It soon faded though when he saw that scowl, and he hunched over in his seat, watching her turn away from him and return to her food.

Hwoarang continued to smirk.

* * *

It took Seong-Hada a few days to realise what Hwoarang had actually said to her, if shielding her chest any time he came near was anything to go by; and so he spent a lot of the time trying to tell her what he actually meant. The message eventually got through when he pointed to his eyes and then did the thumbs up gesture, although it took her a bit to get what he was trying to say.

Currently, he was holding the bets for one of their fights. Since becoming the third wheel in this circus, he had offered to hold the betting and the money for the pair, seeing as he barely knew how to fight himself. He watched them at the front of the crowd. The attacks were fluent and effortless, though any time a hit did connect, he knew the attacker would regret it, but he couldn't necessarily see it in their eyes.

He was especially amazed by Hwoarang's control.

Every kick that was launched was so controlled. Once initiated, it was pulled back slightly, so not to damage her too badly. When it was coming back, it was down the same path. When the kick was held, it was held without shaking or losing balance. Whoever taught them must have been a great teacher, but he wondered why this control was so much more evident in Hwoarang than in Razer. His wondering pinned it down to the fact that he must've had more training than she did.

It wasn't the control of the attacks he found fascinating either. The look on his face was also controlled. If he hurt her and felt bad about it, there was no way that Seong-Hada himself, nor the gamblers or the opponent would even notice. There was no 'I'm sorry' flashing across his eyes, no wince or hesitance in attacks. His 'game face' was emotionless and determined. No smirk not frown ever crossed it, and he was really marvelled by that control too.

A pained hiss got his attention again. He watched as Razer took a few steps back, holding her struck cheek. He could see blood dripping through the gaps of her fingers, and he could already see some swelling. He glanced back to his fellow Korean, who was still as emotionless as before, even coming to launch another attack, this time a sweeping one to her legs. She buckled forward, falling to one knee, before pushing herself back up. She was grabbed by her arm and pulled forward slightly. The next thing she knew, she was on the ground, a stinging pain at her hip.

She put one hand up. SH hurriedly turned to the others, "**Hwoarang wins!**"

There were a few grunts in the crowd, and eventually they all dispersed. It was when they were alone again did he see the control shatter, and Hwoarang was by her side, helping her up, placing his hand over the wound, muttering to himself in Korean how he should've been more careful and that he was sorry. Seong-Hada followed them, stuffing the money into his pockets for later, and opened the bag that they carried around everywhere, seeing a large bandaid. He offered it to Hwoarang, who snatched it from his hands without looking or a 'thank you'.

Once the bandaid was on her cheek, the youngest watched as the redhead placed a kiss on her forehead and smile at her. He took her hands and rubbed them a little in a comforting manner, and he had to strain to hear it, but when those three words left his mouth, Seong-Hada suddenly understood a lot of things. Why he was always trying to keep him away from her, why he was so edgy around him, why he was always trying hard to please her.

_You love her, _he blinked, surprised but not so surprised. Even then, love was probably too soft a word.

He wondered, though, what would happen if the three of them were pried apart and needed to contact an ambulance if the injuries were too much, like a broken leg – or if the three of them needed to reunite. They couldn't contact one another. It was here than an idea was forming, as he surveyed a nearby shop. He was well aware that neither of them trusted him wholly yet, and he really wanted to find a way to get them to trust him more, because he wanted to be their friend.

Nodding to himself, Seong-Hada grabbed all of the money in his pocket and held it out, "**Hwoarang.**"

The 16-year-old looked to the youth blankly, before realising that he was giving him the money that they had earned. He took it and opened his wallet, dumping the contents into it, before watching the youth take a few steps back and look to the phone store on his left. Furrowing his eyebrows, he asked slowly, "**What are you planning to do?**"

"**I want you two to get to platform six and be ready to jump on the next train. I'll meet you there. I'm doing something that I think is important and necessary for all of us.**"

Nodding a little again, he shoved his hands into his pockets and swallowed the large lump in his throat. Walking to the store, he looked quickly over his shoulder again to see Hwoarang watching cautiously, and also helping Razer to her feet, leading her towards platform six. Once they were on their way, he entered the store casually, humming a random pop song he heard under his breath.

He started to observe the random phones hanging from the wall, his back to the other person in the small store. He glanced quickly over his shoulder at the man at the desk, who was engrossed in the music blaring from his white headphones. He was overlooking some documents and was still not paying attention to him nor any of his surroundings. From what the 14-year-old could see, there was nobody else, customer or not, in the store; and he took this opportunity to grab the three, identical phones, chargers and all, from the desk to his right and slip them in his pocket.

Trying to keep up the inconspicuous charade, he stuffed his hands deeper into his pockets and scuttled back out of the door, heading to platform six. Fortunately, the alarms didn't go off for whatever reason. Seong-Hada thought that maybe the phones he had just stolen had already been 'scanned' and therefore he could exit the store. Shrugging it off, he continued to walk, and once out and away from the shop, he bolted away.

_If this doesn't show that I'm not here to screw things up for them, that I wanna be a part of this… trio, then I don't know what will._

_

* * *

_

Author's Note: Naughty SH. -spank-


	28. Dwelling

_If it is in _normal _style, then it is speech.  
If it is in italics, then it is thought.  
If it is in __**bold,**__ then it is the individual's natural tongue.  
If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil.

* * *

_

_**Chapter Twenty-Eight: Dwelling **_

The blurring lights in the tunnel were a common feat of their train hopping. Since receiving their phones, both Hwoarang and Razer seemed to be a more accepting of Seong-Hada. The offering still made them wary and cautious, but generally, they let their guard down a little. The oldest started to teach him English solidly, figuring it was the least he could do and necessary, given their new electrical devices. A couple of words here and there wouldn't be enough. He was actually starting to understand what was being said and be able to string words together in return. When around the two of them, he spoke in English only, trying to absorb more of the language.

Whilst Razer was playing around with the few games on her cellphone, Hwoarang was lying back in his seat, arms behind his head and watching the lights slide by, clearly bored. Seong-Hada was sitting next to the foreigner, peering over her shoulder and watching the pixelated, black snake slide around the screen and eat squares, "What you doing?"

"Playing a game," she replied.

"Gei… muh…?"

Hwoarang interjected, "_Game. _**You know, a game.**"

"Ahhh! You a… um…" he looked back to the 16-year-old, "**Tell me, what's 'win'?**" After the annoyed grunt subsided and the new English word was absorbed into his brain, he turned back to the girl, looking at the game again. The snake had gotten a lot longer since he last looked, and he was surprised by this fact, "You win?"

She shook her head, "Just lost."

He again looked to Hwoarang. Once the latter word was clarified, he reached out a hand and lightly patted her shoulder, not really knowing what else to say. He knew some of the language now, but not enough, in his opinion, to communicate effectively yet. Still, practice made perfect. He'd get it someday, he was sure of it. There was no harm in learning a second language, particularly when this one was so well known throughout the world.

Razer slipped her phone back into her pocket and looked at their reflections in the window opposite. Another two weeks had passed since they received their cellphones, and she was also surprised at how much the streets had effected them physically. She had lost a lot of weight and was constantly looking tired, and her eyes were not as bright. Hwoarang had lost a lot of muscle but was managing to keep in surprisingly good form despite this. The lack of attention to his dyed hair was also apparent – she could see about an inch of his roots. Seong-Hada generally looked thinner, otherwise she didn't notice much else.

Her eyes met the redhead's in the window, and as they connected, he spoke, "We need to find somewhere to live. This train-hopping, hiding in the stations and so on… We can't keep doing this for the rest of our lives. There's another fifty or sixty or maybe even seventy years ahead of us, and I certainly don't want to spend them out here, starving and cold."

"So what do you advise we do?"

"I reckon we should look around again for another abandoned store or an apartment or just _something_," he turned to look at her, and she eventually followed suit, "Somewhere away from a fucking train station, y'know? Somewhere where we can go back to and stay and sleep comfortably for once. It's pretty obvious that we're gonna be stealing for a while so, we can just nick shit and put it in this place."

"And in which district do you advise we search in? We have searched most of the others already."

"Not the one we came from though," he answered uneasily, "Maybe we should look there."

* * *

Searching in their original district proved to be just as pointless as the others. They took a break at lunchtime, going into a nearby McDonalds for food, and Hwoarang wondered how much longer they'd have to search before they found something. With an almost inaudible, dejected sigh, he picked up the tray that was slid out to him and turned, heading to the table that the other two were at.

He sat between the two of them again. It was becoming a common feat, mainly because he was trying to keep Seong-Hada away from Razer because he still didn't entirely trust him. Trying to maintain a blank facial expression, he rested his chin on his fist and grabbed his coke, speaking before taking a long sip, "Enjoy guys. We'll start searching again soon."

They each snatched up their meals, and when Seong-Hada saw what was before him, he whooped for joy and clapped his hands approvingly, before throwing them out to the sides, not caring if he made a show over his favourite food, "Hamabagah!"

Hwoarang corrected him, unaware that he too had slipped up, "It's 'hambagah'."

"Its 'hamburger'," Razer chuckled.

Both men sighed, the older of the two rolling his eyes, "It came out wrong."

"Sure it did, Hwoarang."

* * *

"Don't make me go there."

The statement had both Razer and Seong-Hada (however far down he was down the pathway) turn to look at Hwoarang. She furrowed her eyebrows and approached him again, asking slowly, watching as he pulled one of the straps of the backpack closer to his body, "Don't make you go where?"

"The street," he said, pointing to the one that they had stopped outside of, "Don't make me go there."

Seong-Hada had suggested looking down here, and whilst the area looked familiar, it still wasn't entirely recognisable to the Greek. The look on his face, however, was quite desperate. She hesitated for a moment, tilting her head in confusion, before grabbing his hands and squeezing them, "It's just a street. There's nothing dark down there."

He scowled, voice breaking, "You're telling me you don't recognise this place? Look at the street Razer, look at the houses!" he stopped for a moment before continuing, "I don't want to go back down to the street that broke me again and put us out on the sidewalk!"

She paused again and hurriedly surveyed the area. Once the pieces clicked, she looked down and squeezed his hands tighter, feeling bad for not recognising it in the first place. Nodding, she started to walk again, lightly pulling the Korean along to cross to the other side, "Close your eyes. You do not have to confront it yet, so just walk with me and we can pretend that we haven't come back here yet."

He could feel a few tears welling in his now sealed eyes, and he tried to focus on everything and anything but memories of Baek and the dojang. Gathering his voice, he called out to the third person in the trio, "**Seong-Hada, we're not going down that street. Cross the road with us and we'll keep walking. Don't ever mention this to me again.**"

Once the street of his undoing was well out of sight, Hwoarang opened his eyes again and began to walk hurriedly, stuffing his hands into his pockets. His mind was running through places in the district, but not necessarily that close to where the dojang once was, that may have been liveable. He was soon reminded of a back alley that once had a few shops here and there. It wasn't a safe neighbourhood, but it was well out of the way. When he was eight, Baek once took him there because they were trying to find a particular type of spaceship toy. The stores in the area looked very rundown and looked as though they were going out of business then. Perhaps they were closed now.

Ideas forming, he span to his accomplices and said to them in English to follow him. They had no choice anyway and followed, both trying to keep up with his longer strides. Through the many winding streets and crossing many intersections, he eventually found himself at the complex of smaller alleyways, well away from the main shopping centre in Seoul, and well away from the ruins of the dojang. Looking up and around, he started to set foot into the one directly before him. The journey had taken forty minutes, he presumed, if their huffing and tired legs were anything to go by.

Past the various Hangul graffiti and broken bottles, he indeed saw the stores, all boarded shut and a far cry from the ones in his memory. He ran up towards the small one on his left, feeling around the door. Looking briefly to Razer and Seong-Hada, who were clearly confused, he took a few steps back and slammed himself into the door, falling through when the wood, in its aged weakness, gave way.

Picking himself up and off the floor, he looked around the area, seeing rubbish, frayed curtains and broken tables and chairs. The windows on the opposite side were all smashed in, and he assumed there had been a robbery here, however long ago. Judging by the dust on the objects, it had been many years ago. Realising that it was just one room and that it would not be enough to live in for them, he stepped out and walked further down the alleyway, peering in through the grainy glass, seeing similar stories throughout.

Turning left, he started to head down another alleyway, both Razer and SH close at his heels. He stopped halfway down this long one and looked to his left again, seeing another appealing, abandoned shop. The windows had a few planks of wood across them, though he could still see through the gaps. It was quite large, definitely large enough to accommodate the three of them, and then some if they found others. Furrowing his eyebrows, he placed a hand on the doorknob and twisted. It was unlocked, however the effort to open the door wholly was a struggle. He had to shove it harshly, but not to the point to break it down like the Blood Talon did to the previous store's door.

Sliding in, he looked around, immediately recognising that there was more than one room. His eyes drifted towards the opposite end of this large room, where he saw a door, and realised that he was probably coming in through the back one. To his left was another open door, where he saw a toilet, sink and a _shower, _of all things. Perhaps the former owner of this store lived here too.

Running in, he dumped his bag down on the dusty ground and ran to the opposite side, inspecting the new door. It was locked, and judging by the rust on the door, it would most likely remain that way. To his right, he saw a _kitchen counter, _the filthy, light green top curving around the wall – _and another sink, _and a _stove. _And _cupboards_. Eyes brightening, Hwoarang span around, noticing more broken furniture closest to his friends, and ran towards the other three rooms, two of which were quite small. There was nothing in any of the rooms.

Quickly running around the entire store again, he checked every window, making sure that they could open and close. The wooden planks blotted out a lot of the sunlight, but he didn't care, and it was probably better this way. When he came out of the bathroom, which he was the last room he window-checked, he saw Razer and Seong-Hada looking around too, the former holding his backpack against her chest.

The latter piped up, pleased by the look of satisfaction on Hwoarang's face, "**This is it?**"

"**Yup.**"

"We're staying here?" Razer asked.

"I guess, for now, this is… our apartment. Our hideout."

Nodding firmly, he left his new home, going to find things to bring in.


	29. Distress

_If it is in _normal _style, then it is speech.  
If it is in italics, then it is thought.  
If it is in __**bold,**__ then it is the individual's natural tongue.  
If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil._

Author's Note: So like, life is being really busy now. I've started Uni, and the travel is _monstrous. _Seriously. Like, two hours. Gotta wake up at 4.30am just to get to the 8.30am/9.00am classes – which I might not always make. I have tasks and assignments hanging out of my ass, and then some.

I also have to do another 40+ hours of driving to be able to get my provisional license by the 16th of April, or I have to do the learner license test _again _and instead of complete only 50 hours, I'd have to do 120. So writing has _seriously _taken the back of my priorities. Good news however, TMB has been finished (you know, writing ahead and shit) so yeah. I'm considering writing on the bus in to Uni actually.

* * *

_**Chapter Twenty-Nine: Distress **_

"_You broke my window, kid."_

"_It was an accident," Hwoarang said, swallowing. He looked to the girl beside him._

_Razer's arms were pressed closed to her sides as she was scrutinized again, "You helped him cover it up."_

_The newly turned fourteen-year-old nodded, fiddling with a pen in her pocket, "I'm sorry."_

_Baek closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. Sighing, he pointed to Hwoarang, then pointed to the back door, "Sit there." Afterwards, he pointed to Razer and pointed to the front door, right at the opposite end, all the way down the corridor, "And you sit there, while I clean up the broken glass and see who I can call up to fix it. In future, refrain from kicking the soccer ball against my fucking house."_

_ And so they obeyed, both students going to their designated areas. Because of how they had been seated, both were still in view of one another, thanks to the long corridor that led from the living area to the training area. Razer leant against the wall with a sigh, closing her eyes and waiting for time to pass. She was unaware that her accomplice's gaze was set directly on her._

_Also bored, Hwoarang looked around the immediate area. There was a bookshelf to his left, and to his right were the stools and the kitchen counter. He noticed that behind said bookshelf were a few papers and a pen. Amused, his eyes darted to Baek, watching as he spoke on the phone rapidly to a repair man. Inching over towards it, he grabbed the utensils and started to write on it, an idea forming in his head. _

_Folding the note into a paper aeroplane, he waited for Baek to slip outside before throwing it, watching as it eventually landed in her lap. Curious, she picked it up, casting a wary glance at him, seeing that he was doing nothing but grinning. She opened it up, seeing the English inside._

SW,

We can still communicate, mwahaha. SW = Storm Wind by the way. That nickname that Baek gave you. Any idea why he gave you that?

BT (Blood Talon).

_She immediately caught onto his idea and whipped out the pen she had been fiddling with earlier, scrawling a reply underneath his. Folding back up again, she tossed it to Hwoarang, watching as it landed a few feet in front of him. Baek still hadn't noticed their exchanges, not even as he reached across and picked up the item, opening it and reading again._

BT,

I do not know why he gave me such a nickname, but I'm not going to complain. Perhaps I am the stormy winds that the bloody talon has to soar through to greatness, or something strange like that.

SW.

_She was soon met with the same plane._

SW,

I'd rather stay in the stormy winds if it means I can stay with you.

BT.

_She looked up after reading it to see him smiling. _

"Hey."

She was lightly shoved. It was strange seeing the boy in her memories as he was now – older and more matured, but slowly becoming more and more guarded again, let alone seeing sorrow deep in his face. She moved her hair from her face and looked up to Hwoarang again, "What?"

He flicked his head up to the top left hand corner of this particular abandoned shop. The three of them were still grabbing stuff to cultivate their hideout. Their raiding was only about an hour old, and so far they had found a few old mattresses, blankets and cushions. The Blood Talon's eyes were set on the small television in this shop. The antennas were bent and the actual frame of the television was dented too, but he thought it was still salvageable, "I want that TV."

"Can't live without your porn, hmm?" she jested.

He rolled his eyes and picked her up, ignoring her 'shit!' and Seong-Hada's chuckling. Raising her so that she sat on his shoulders, he took a step forward, watching as her hands snaked around the box to unplug it. She then put one hand underneath the item and the other at the top, "Take it down and give it to SH. **Seong-Hada, get ready to grab that thing.**"

"**She's going to throw it down?! It'll break!**" he looked to the Greek in alarm, "Razer, no throw! No throw!"

"I'm not gonna fucking throw it!" she looked to the others, "Ready?"

Hwoarang tightened his grip on the woman's legs. The weight added strain on his shoulders, and he bit his lip to cope with it. Soon enough, the item was passed to Seong-Hada, who put it on the floor, his fingers aching from the heaviness of the television. He turned on his heel and looked at the item, grinning, "Merry Christmas to us."

Razer tapped him on the head. He looked up. She spoke, "Christmas isn't for another three weeks or so…" she tightened her grip on him when he shrugged, the action causing her to wobble on his shoulders, "And also, you can put me down now."

"Nah, I like you up here. All I have to do is turn my head around and I get easy access, if you know what I mean…"

She grabbed his hair and pulled on it, which in turn got her back on the ground, "Is there _ever _a time you don't think about sex?"

"Yeah."

"Can we see that side more often?"

"No."

"Can you get your head out of your cock?"

He grinned, "No."

She palmed her face, "When did you become such a pervert?"

"When you became so hot," he replied teasingly. It'd been a while since they played games like this, "If I could see you naked, I'd die happy."

"If I saw you naked, I would probably die laughing."

"_Please,_" he crowed, waving his hand in a dismissive fashion, "I remember that time in the dojang, you were washing the dishes and checking my awesome, shirtless self out, and B… aek…"

He stopped and span away from her, placing the cords on top of the box, picking up the television himself. Without another word, he exited this shop and headed back to the hideout. Seong-Hada looked to Razer, who was just watching Hwoarang leave, shaking her head slightly with furrowed eyebrows.

He still is struggling to keep that sadness at bay. How weak, Devil smirked, I wonder how long it will take him to recover, if he ever does. I also wonder if he perceives your reaction as heartless… After a pause, she continued, I wish I could get into his mind too and break him down. Crush whatever is left of his broken spirit and change it into one just like mine.

Abruptly, Razer punched herself in the thigh, earning a hiss from Devil. Seong-Hada noticed and quirked an eyebrow, "You okay?"

"Cramp," she lied.

"Kr…emp?"

"Forget it," she left.

Seong-Hada sighed.

* * *

Those three weeks went by, and as they did, a lot of things changed.

The trio had more stuff in their 'hideout' now, and would go to the side of the road further down to conduct a few fights. It was a dishonourable but steady income, one that none of them were proud of but were appreciative of. Seong-Hada even started pitching in, miserably pitting himself against Hwoarang for a fight he knew he'd lose if it wasn't staged. His fellow Korean had noted, however, that the youth did have some technique, and he believed it needed development in the future.

In between fights they would just sit around at the hideout or go out. Hwoarang seemed to sleep a lot of the day in his own 'room', whilst Razer and SH would watch television. Razer would check in on him every so often only to see him still curled up, or awake and asking her to leave. It was clear he wanted alone time still to try and recover. He was getting better day by day, but he would recall a memory or see something that instantly reminded him of his teacher, and it would bring him down again.

Now though, she was waking up herself, listening to the mumblings of the devil within, in her own 'room'. They were fortunate they found a hideout of this size, because everybody literally had their own bedroom of sorts, with a mattress on the ground, a pillow and a few sheets. She rolled out of bed and quickly got dressed, rubbing her eyes and running her fingers through her messy hair, tying it up thereafter. Pulling her jacket closer to her form, it was winter after all and particularly cold this morning, she trudged out into the kitchen and looked at the crap calendar they had stolen.

December 25th… the beast mused.

She nodded slightly, and in her sleepy daze, she looked to the counter beside her, seeing two cookies in a plate each, covered by plastic wrap and with a small post-it note on each of them, with names hurriedly scrawled on them in Hangul. After quickly reading them, she realised that Seong-Hada had made both of them for them, one each, for Christmas.

Upon seeing them, an idea formed in her head.

Seeing the post-it note set nearby, she grabbed the top one and the corresponding pen, writing on hurriedly and in very simple English that she and Hwoarang were leaving for a while and would be back later. Ripping off the top sheet, she stuck it on the television screen, because she knew that would be where the youth would head to after waking up.

Why so determined? Devil asked as Razer entered Hwoarang's room.

_I'm sick of seeing him moping around._

He was asleep on his side, as usual, with the covers pulled up to his chin. She grabbed them from his hands and threw them back, the wind and the cold air being enough to have him open his eyes a little. When her warmer body pressed against him and when he felt a persistent jabbing into his side, he woke up entirely and looked to the woman who was hovering over him with a small smile. She spoke softly, "Merry Christmas."

"And that's reason enough for you to take off my damn covers and make me cold?"

"Mhm. Especially because, I'm pulling you out of this place for a while as a present because I can't afford anything, to somewhere I know you will like," her hands trailed down his sides and stopped, resting above his for a moment, before gripping them and standing up, aiming to pull him up with her, "Now come on, get dressed and let's go. We can pick up some food on the way."

"I am so fucking sick of McMuffins."

"Then get something else."

"Mehhhhh. Can't I just cuddle you for the whole day or something instead? I'd like that."

"So would I, but no."

"If you'd like it, then why are you objecting to it?" he asked, finally standing, still holding her hands.

"Because," Razer drawled, letting go of his hands and throwing his nearby, long-sleeved shirt at his head, "I want to see you happy."

"You want me happy? Suck my dick," he pointed to his crotch.

"Get dressed Hwoarang," she left.

* * *

"Didn't think you'd take me here. I'm actually surprised you remembered where it was."

She sat down on the ground and stared out to their part of the Seoul district again, like they had done earlier this year when it was a little warmer. The sun wasn't setting this time, it was rising, and it was giving an entirely different feel to the now snowy hill. Athane scratched her head before wrapping her arms around herself, trying to fend off the cold with the jacket she had worn to death already, "I remember you saying that you come up here when you need to clear your head… and I think you need this right now more than any amount of sleep. You need to… crucify this sorrow quickly before it eats you alive."

"And even my quotes. Maybe you like me more than I thought," he replied jokingly, sitting beside her, unaware of the intensifying scarlet in her cheeks.

"Of course I like you, I would have run away again and not come back if I didn't."

"I mean _like-_like."

"And where did you get that stupid idea?" she remarked, hiding her wavering voice, "I don't like you. Not in that way."

He suddenly became really quiet, eyes now focused on the snow.

You certainly know how to make him sadder, don't you? Devil seethed, He's in love with you as much as you're in love with him, and you had to shut him down like _that, on Christmas day, _whilst he's still depressed. Bravo, Miss Athane, she sarcastically began to clap, angering her host further, Well done.

He jumped when he heard her punch herself. Quirking an eyebrow, he spoke, all former thoughts dispelled, "Um… What was that for?"

"Devil."

"Oh… Being shitty again?"

"Yes."

He hesitated for a moment before scuttling a little closer, grabbing her and holding her against him again, "I think you think about me too much, and I can't help but wonder why. Are you just being a good friend or is there something more?" he shrugged, "But judging by how kindly you spat 'I don't like you', I guess you're just being a good friend, so… thanks. But I want you to tell me how you are, because you focus on me too much. I get why you do that but still…"

"I feel sad for you, and bad that you're so quiet. You sounded hopeful that I might have feelings for you."

He smirked for a moment, quickly hiding it, "Of course not. Don't be silly," he slowly pulled her down, so that her head was resting on his thighs, and then started stroking her hair affectionately, "But… if you do have them and you're not telling me because you think I'll laugh or something equally as insulting, just know that I wouldn't laugh. I don't mind." _I want you to._

He's giving you an opportunity to open your mouth. Perhaps you should say something.

"Whatever, Hwoarang," Razer rubbed her eyes, still tired.

"Heh. Just try and imagine us together, for shits and giggles," he continued the charade, looking down on her, "It's kinda funny. I can totally see me being all melodramatic and shit going '_Ra-_zerrr, let me make love to you, we've been together for five fucking years, I'm dying here!', and then you punch me in the balls and leave."

"I'd probably do that. But if we were together and it did get to that stage, I can see you going to fuck someone else behind my back."

She felt him tense, "You really think I'd do that? What kind of guy do you take me for?"

She shrugged and rolled over, looking over the district again, "Less talking, more observing the prettiness."

"**I'd never... Shit, I can't believe you said that,**" he murmured to himself.

"Less talking," she repeated, "More observing the prettiness."

"But I am observing the 'prettiness'."

She turned her head slightly, seeing that his gaze was still on her. She blushed and said nothing, looking back out to the city again, feeling his hand drift from her hair to her cold cheek. Although his hand was cold too, it still felt warm and comforting. Hesitantly, she placed her hand over his, feeling him slide a few fingers between hers, despite the awkwardness.

"Thanks for bringing me here," Hwoarang said, "I feel a lot better."

"Good."

"I thought of a Christmas present for you, by the way."

She turned to look at him again, "Oh?"

"Two actually."

"And they are?"

"One," he leant forward, unhesitant, and held the kiss he initiated on her lips for a few seconds, before pulling back, "And two, I'm your slave for the rest of the day. I can't think of anything better than having me do whatever you want, so, yeah."

"Well then, slave… My first request is that you look at the damn prettiness and forget your troubles –" he was already opening his mouth to comment, "- and by 'prettiness', I mean the city. So just stare into it and forget about everything."

And so he did her bidding.

* * *

It was when they were walking back down the hill did they see someone in an alleyway, holding his head.

I wonder what happened to him?

Hwoarang was the one who noticed, stopping her from walking any further and sticking his head down the alley. He saw a small, cardboard sign sitting next to him, reading something about how the system is 'fucked up', how he did 'nothing to end up on the streets starving', and another entirely separate sign begging for food. He took another look at the man, seeing his long hair drape over most of his face and some of his shoulders, and one of his sleeves on his dark green shirt had been completely ripped off. Said piece was tied around his right knee, acting like a bandage.

He looked at Razer for a moment. If she took Seong-Hada in, then surely it would be okay to take this guy in too. He appeared to be a little older than both of them, but he couldn't help but feel sorry for him. After all, they were in the same position really, only they chose to hide in the streets instead of splitting up and live better lives. A life without the other wasn't really a life for them anymore.

With his hands in his pockets, he walked down the alley, blocking out a lot of the sunlight, causing the man to stir and look at him. Narrowing his eyes, he murmured, "**What do you want?**"

"**Do you speak English?**" he asked.

"**Yes, not as well as Korean though… Why?**"

He looked to Razer again before looking back, "**So, what happened to you?**"

"**Got thrown out of my house because I couldn't afford to pay my bills because nobody would give me a job, no family around to help me, and the government wouldn't even give me fuckin' money to live on. Why?**"

"**Your sign says you're hungry.**"

"**I haven't eaten in a week…**" he replied, rubbing his stomach. His guard was down at the mere mention of food.

"**So get off of your ass and come with me,**" he growled firmly, turning his back on him, going to stand beside Razer again, "What's your name?"

"My name is Nas-San."

* * *

It was awkward entering the hideout with another person. Seong-Hada's initial reaction was 'Merry Christmas!', followed by a 'who are you?'. Stuff was eventually sorted out, and upon hearing Nas-San's story (despite not making much sense to him – after all he was only 14-years-old and didn't understand the government system very well), he immediately set out to cook something big and tasty for him to eat. He settled on a quick, rice cake soup, which the new Nas-San was very appreciative of, constantly saying how nice this food was.

Arrangements were made for him to stay for a while. Hwoarang decided that it would be best if Razer stayed with him until he left, so therefore Nas-San got her room until he was back on his feet. The man had already used the shower upon spotting it through the open 'bathroom' door and commented on how much better he felt for showering. Something that was nice, though, was his constant thanks. Nobody expected that. He really seemed to be a nice guy.

Razer watched the three of them talk in silence. She had been really unnerved since the talk on the hill. Where as it brought ease to Hwoarang, it made her wonder if she should've said something, and also if she had hurt him by denying her feelings. Her pondering had taken up most of the day, and whilst she ate and interacted occasionally, she was still thinking.

"Your slave requests permission to speak," Hwoarang joked, nudging her a little.

"Permission granted," she replied in the same joking manner.

"What's up with you?" he rubbed his eyes, "I'm really tired, and it kinda looks like you are too."

"Yeah I am very tired. Actually, I am going to bed now," she stood and ventured to her temporary bedroom, "Goodnight guys, and Merry Christmas."

Seong-Hada and Nas-San smiled back.

Hwoarang also stood and followed, "**Later, Merry Christmas, and don't eat all the food.**"

He slipped into his room before she had the chance to shut the door on him. Easing himself in, closing the door and locking it behind him, he heard her speak, "Why'd you follow me in?"

"I'm tired too, and want to go to sleep as well," he grabbed one of his nearby t-shirts and threw it at her head, "You can wear this."

After removing it from her head and noticing it was his large, white one, she looked back up at him, eyes widening slightly. His goggles were already off and on the floor next to the door, framing his face in a manner that she really did love, but never commented on. His gloves were thrown off next, just into the pile in the corner of the small room, and his shoes and socks went with it next, the former hitting the ground with a loud 'thunk'.

His hands moved to his dark blue jacket next, pulling down the zip and sliding it off of his shoulders, again tossing it into the corner. His shirt was next, grabbing the bottom edges of the black, long-sleeved item, and lifting it up and over his head, causing his muscles to tense – and Razer continued to affirm to herself that she 'did not notice, _at all_' the attractiveness of his body. She was further surprised to see that he _still _wore the rocket pendant. Its age was showing, yet he still wore it with pride. Her initial peeping had morphed into downright staring, and he was oblivious to it, even as he started to undo his belt and jeans without hesitance.

She finally asked, "…Why are you stripping in front of me?"

He chuckled, stopping what he was doing and looking up. Noticing her staring, he experimentally tensed his muscles a little, getting the silent reaction he had hoped for, "Because you know for a fact that I sleep in my boxers. And it's not like I'm getting naked so really I don't care if you watch me 'strip'. Don't forget, you need to change too."

"…You want me to undress myself in front of you?"

He shrugged, "The quicker you do it, the less embarrassed you'll be."

"Can't you turn around?"

"And miss out on that hot body? I don't think so," he joked.

She wasn't joking, however, "Hwoarang… I'm not comfortable enough to do that. Can I have my old room back? Why'd you move me?"

"Because I don't trust either of them. I want to make sure you're safe, and I know you'll be safe with me."

She was silent for a moment, "But they seem…"

"Raze, get over it. This is how it has to be. You know I'm not gonna touch you. You don't know if Seong-Hada or Nas-San will," Tossing the jeans into the same pile, he looked at her for a moment and placed both of his hands over his eyes, thereafter turning around, "I'll do this if it'll make you feel better. And you probably shouldn't leave your jeans on, you'll be uncomfortable. I've got loads of blankets and shit so you'll be warm."

He heard her rustling about and simply waited patiently until she spoke again. The area suddenly got darker, and he couldn't see any light shining in through the cracks of his fingers. After a little more rustling, he eventually heard her squeak out, "Okay."

Taking his hands from his eyes and opening them, he realised that she had plunged the room in complete darkness. Inching his way around to the left side, he patted around for the blankets, hooking his fingers around them and pulling them back so he could slide in. The mattress was cold against his skin, as were the blankets that were now across his chest, but he knew he would adapt sooner or later.

She inched closer to him, pressing herself against his warmer body, "I hope you don't mind."

"Its fine," he replied, wrapping his arms around her, "Hope this helps. Sleep good okay?"

"You too. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas. **I love you.**"

"Um…"

"It's nothing bad," he reassured for the millionth time.

"The… uh… master wants to know what this 'sarang hae yo' means."

He hid his smile in her hair and in the darkness, feeling a hand coyly place itself on his chest, beside the rocket pendant, "You'll find out one day. I promise."

He'd learn that night exactly how much blanket that damn girl needed.

* * *

Where as the sorrow was crucified that day, it was brought back within a week, because Hwoarang's observations had lead him to a discovery that he did not approve of.

Now, he knew it wasn't her fault. After all, he was attracted to her and so on. But he noticed that Seong-Hada was taking a large shining to the girl, and had since they first met. It only got larger and larger with every passing moment, and the more noticeable it became to him, the angrier he got. He spoke to Nas-San about it, thereafter confiding in him about his feelings, and threatened 'if you dare tell her… I don't know what I'll fucking do, but it'll be painful'. The threat was met with a tired grunt at midday. It only just occurred to him, in his stupidity, that the kid learnt as much English as he could to communicate with her, not because he was actually _interested _in learning the language.

He looked back down at the old magazine, reading about some sex scandal with one of the Super Junior members, and pretended to listen to music from his old, battery-powered MP3 player, which he was one of the things he had taken with him to the concert that changed his life twice in one night. It was off, it had no power left after all, but he still had the headphones in his ears as he eavesdropped into the newly formed conversation between the two younger members of this… 'gang'.

"I want tell you something," Seong-Hada remarked, his eyes fleetingly darting to the Blood Talon.

Razer, who was playing around with a battered rubix cube they found early in their raids, put it back down on the ground beside the couch and turned to look at him, "Yes? It's 'I want _to _tell you something', by the way. You forgot a word. 'To'."

He nodded a little, "Yeah yeah yeah! I want tell – _I want to tell _you something. The something… hurts though. I still want to tell you. You listen, yes?" His eyes were not as bright as normal, even as he looked into hers, "Please?"

"Sure."

Nodding again, he pulled his feet up onto the couch and tucked them under his body. He stopped looking at her and looked to his wringing hands. It was a habit he attained in his youth whenever he was nervous, "It about… gajok… Uh… _family. _It about…" he pointed to himself, "Ma… _My _family. And what happen. I want you know a bit more about me, why you find me in street. This okay?"

She nodded a little, "Okay, SH."

"Okay, uh… I live with Mother… in a house," _Great way to start, _he thought to himself, "Dad… was nice but… he mean too. He's a big boss guy in… a job. Mum really loved Dad, and Dad care about Mum but… Mum wasn't… main woman?" he paused for a moment, questioning himself as to whether or not that sounded right, "Yeah, main woman, wasn't main woman. He had another woman, before Mum and he still with her. They have son, lot older than me. But I've never met them. I want to… but Dad never allow it.

"Dad come around sometimes, not all time though. Mum always wait for him and always dote on him. **Oh Jung-Hwa I'm so happy you've come, I've made your favourite –**" It took him a moment to realise that he rattled off in Korean, and bowing his head apologetically, he continued on in English, "Dad name Jung-Hwa. Mum name Seung-Yeon. I was her only kid. I come home from school one day, by bus… earlier in year, I was only in – _on? _On. I was only on street for a week. But I come home and she has… Uh…" What was the English word for batjul? "Rope…?"

Frustrated, he imitated the object around his throat, pretending to die it and then pull it as though he were hanging. He could already feel tears welling in his eyes, "Mum hanging from ceiling… with… thing around neck. Dead. She no answer to me, and I cry. I see note on table and read it, and cry again. I call Dad – **Dad Dad, it's Mum, she's hanging from the ceiling, she's dead – **_**why are you acting so heartless?! **_And I…" he paused and rubbed his nose, "Sorry. Mum kill self for Dad, because she love Dad. Because… he too busy leading her heart around, when he still love his wife."

He was struggling to go on, but found comfort when Razer touched his shoulder lightly and said, "You can stop."

"I want keep going!" he breathed in and correct himself, "I _want to _keep going."

Her hand did not move, "Okay."

He nodded again, trying to find his pace, "I call Dad and he come around with police. I'm crying on the floor near Mum because I not know what to do. Dad and police come, and Dad take me to another room while stuff sorted. And he say to me…" he narrows his eyes, "I won't forget what he say to me. He say to me, "'Sang-Mi' – that other woman – 'can never know, and I have nowhere to take you'…" he looked up at her, "He throw me out and sell house, and all things inside. That time is… sorrowful. That why you find me on - …_in…? _Street. That why me there. Okay?"

She nodded as well, "Okay. I'm sorry to hear that, that's a really bad tale."

"Ta…le?"

"Story."

"But it's true! Not story!"

"Stories can be real as well. I didn't doubt you."

"Ah… Okay okay," he nodded. Pausing for a moment and breathing in again, Seong-Hada looked to her where her and was and smiled a little. He placed his hand over it and gripped it tightly, looking back at her again, a little more life in his eyes. He had wanted to tell her for a long time, and he was glad it was off of his chest now. He knew he wouldn't have survived on the streets alone if she didn't come and help him, "Thank you."

It was then that Hwoarang snapped, almost ripping the magazine from the sheer grip strength, "Get your hand off of hers. Now."

"**Um...?**"

"**Get your damn hand off of hers. **_**Now**_**.**"

He retracted it immediately and looked down, nodding rapidly, "Sorry sorry sorry!"

Razer had since stood up, facing him, "What the fuck is your problem?"

Hwoarang said nothing and merely looked at her.

"He was just telling me his story, I was comforting him, and he was accepting it. There's something wrong with that?"

"He's a big boy, he doesn't need comfort," he seethed silently.

"Oh and I suppose I didn't need to comfort you about _Iseul _and _Min-Woo _and _Baek _either, because you were a big boy then too, hmm? Of course I did, because you were in hysterics," she pointed at him, "Look at you now, I can even see sorrow dancing around behind your eyes just by me mentioning their names. There's nothing wrong with comfort between friends."

"I told you," he growled lowly enough so that only she could hear, "I don't trust him."

"He's fourteen-years-old, what could he possibly do?!" she sighed, "You know what?" she put her hands up and took several steps back towards the door, "Have your little pity party. I'm out of here. I do not know when I'll be back."

He dropped the magazine, seeing her red eyes, and tried to follow her, "Razer, don't. Come back."

"I'll see you tonight."

Thank you, Hwoarang… Devil chimed darkly.

What was terrifying about that was he actually heard her.

* * *

He was so cold.

He couldn't see in the darkness, so whatever the shitty clock on the wall said, he wouldn't be able to tell. He was wrapped up in the blanket from his room, but it did little to bring him heat as he shivered, sitting on the couch and staring straight ahead into the black screen of the television. His teeth were chattering and he could barely feel the rest of his body.

Hours ago, Nas-San suggested he go to bed, but the 16-year-old just shook his head and sat up, waiting for her to come back. If she wasn't back by morning, then he'd go looking for her. If the length of the darkness was anything to go by, then morning wasn't too far away, and he was trying to stay awake just to see Razer come in through the door and see her _human _and _okay._

He was just starting to fall asleep when he heard the door click and felt the icy wind blow in. Snow seeped onto the floor, and he looked up hurriedly, sienna eyes widen open again, trying to take in the shadowy form. He could hear harsh breathing, and he asked through the darkness, still unable to see, "Raze?"

"Hwoarang?"

_It's you, you're alive, you're okay… _"I'm sorry. I was being stupid."

She was still breathing hard, "Me too."

"What time is it?" he asked, rubbing his forehead.

"Four in the morning."

"Are you hurt?"

"No more than usual."

"Go take a shower, I'll wait in my room."

He stood up, almost tripping over the shoes he had thrown off only hours ago, and opened the door to his room. Haphazardly throwing the sheets back over the mattress and cautiously taking off his goggles, he didn't even bother removing the rest of his casual clothing, because he practically collapsed onto the bedding and fell asleep with the relief that she was back, no longer as distressed as previous.


	30. Added

_If it is in _normal _style, then it is speech.  
If it is in italics, then it is thought.  
If it is in __**bold,**__ then it is the individual's natural tongue.  
If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil._

Author's Note: Still trying to truck along here, guys. Any support/helpful words will be… helpful and INSPIRING! XD Have an extra long one guys. Because I feel bad that my update speed has gone from once every three or four days (those were the days… -sigh-) to once a MONTH T_T; Five more after this one, btw. :)

* * *

_**Chapter Thirty: Added**_

"Come on man, kick his ass!"

The African American grinned and cracked his knuckles, thereafter twisting his head from side to side. He looked at the intimidated, blue-haired youth, who was literally quaking in his shoes. The grin at his accomplice's comment morphed into a complete smirk, and he directed his next comment at his opponent. It may have been a street fight, but dammit, he was going to win, "I'm your worst nightmare."

Nas-San quirked an eyebrow at the man's cockiness and briefly looked to Seong-Hada, noting to himself that he still looked weird with his newly dyed dark blue hair. He had been saving up for it for _ages,_ since the youth was accepted into the gang a short eight months ago, but he only had the colour for about two weeks now. Clearing his throat, he looked amongst the crowd, who had since given them his bets, and said, "**Okay, ready Seong-Hada?**" After a brief nod, he looked at the other man, "Ready… uh…"

"Bruce Irvin," he hissed, in his stance now, "And yes, I'm ready."

"Alright. Go!"

Bruce launched a series of short, fast, fleeting knee kicks, aimed for the youth's stomach. As though anticipating the move, he side stepped, still keeping his forearms up to block the strikes. A swift low kick caught him off guard, and the attack stung his knee. Dodging a coming elbow strike, he threw out his right leg, sweeping it across the floor and knocking him off of his feet. Once on the ground, he kicked his opponent in the side with his left leg, then at his thigh with his right, and before he could attack with his left again, Bruce was up.

He grabbed the Korean by the shoulders, and with a wicked smirk, he threw up his right leg and brought his opponent's face down onto it. Seong-Hada thereafter cried out in pain and reeled back, clutching his sore jaw. Tears were blurring his vision, and he felt weak, something he didn't want to feel or portray in the face of his enemy. Clenching his free fist, he threw it across the man's face, suddenly surprised by his own strength when he saw blood cascading down the guy's nose after the hit.

Ducking under another two elbow strikes, he slammed his fist into the man's jaw this time, feeling his knuckles rattle the bone. Bruce grunted before grabbing him again and throwing him into the side of the wall. He was surprised that the kid managed to get a couple of hits on him, particularly as it was obvious that he had no training nor technique. He ran over and delivered several more punches and kicks, before stepping back and observing his handy work, the most notable being the blood matted in his hair.

He cracked his neck again, watching as he tried to get up. Soon enough, he saw the hand go up, and Bruce crowed, "That was pathetic! You barely lasted against me. You really thought you could win?" he scoffed and turned away, "Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic."

It was then that Hwoarang stepped in, arms crossed, "He wanted to have a go, and he did. Tested himself and he did okay, I reckon."

"_Okay? _Can you see, man?" he pointed, "He hasn't gotten up so far."

"I can see perfectly, thanks. I challenge you."

"Are you _sure _you can see, kid? Do you even know who I am?"

"Bruce Irvin, King of Iron Fist participant in the second tournament," he winced, but it would only be visible to one person, who was now tending to a whimpering SH, "You participated with numerous other contestants such as Heihachi and Kazuya Mishima, Jun Kazama, Michelle Chang, and Baek Doo San."

He jeered, "Yeah I remember them. Heihachi… was and still is really determined. I worked for Kazuya until he was killed. Jun and Michelle, while hot and whatever, were tree huggers… and don't get me started on Baek. What a waste of time that man was."

Both Razer and Hwoarang growled and stiffened at the comment, the latter especially, "Baek Doo San was not a waste of time."

"And I suppose _you've _met him," he drawled.

"I'm practically his son," he retorted, "Lived with him and trained under him since I was five. I'm seventeen now. He was _not _a waste of time."

"Ah, his little apprentice. Hwoa-something," he tilted his head back and smirked, "I've heard about you. Used to speak with a few of the other participants who used to talk to Baek, and they said that he mentioned you a lot. Said you were really gifted with martial arts and music," he clicked his tongue and slid into stance, "Let's see if that's true. I wanna hear you sing in pain as I beat you."

Not even waiting for the call of 'go', Bruce launched an attack, smashing his elbow into the side of the Korean's head. Hwoarang retaliated in turn with Nose Bleeder, and crouched underneath the coming leg strikes to conduct Sky Rocket, sending him high into the air. He then carried is left leg across his body, jabbed once and slid into Right Flamingo Stance. Chainsaw Kicks soon followed.

He dashed forward and swung his right leg out, kicking the rising man in the side, causing him to fall again. After that, he waited for Bruce to get up, and jumped clear of the sweeping kick that was thrown out. Sidestepping all the way so that he was behind his opponent, Hwoarang grabbed the African American from his current position and twisted his arm, conducting the rest of his Slaughterhouse Throw.

Bruce was becoming dizzy. He forced himself to get a grip and stood on his own two feet again, body shaking from the force of the kid's kicks. He didn't think that he'd be _this _talented in fighting, let alone that Baek would be able to bring it out and get it to such a strong state. Breathing out firmly, he took several steps forward before throwing out is right leg, spinning a little to do so. Instead of being sent very far away like he hoped, it was blocked, and he grumbled under his breath.

Weaving past another series of kicks and punches, Hwoarang punched him twice in the face, followed by one low left kick and one mid kick. Afterwards, he slid into Right Flamingo Stance and reared up his right leg, raising it as high as possible to slam his heel into the top of his opponent's skull. Bruce crumpled at the hit, only to be kicked lowly again in the side, jabbed once, and then an incredibly painful sensation occurred, originating from the leaping, spinning axe kick that smashed into his chest.

"Do you know who _I_ am, Bruce?" Hwoarang hissed, rolling his passing out form onto his side, "I'm his legacy. And I'll honour it with every breath I take."

As Nas-San collected the cash from the bidding, the Blood Talon walked off, hands in his pockets, returning to the hideout. Razer looked to him for a moment, before helping Seong-Hada to his feet and helping him to walk and follow.

* * *

"**We're back,**" Hwoarang announced, opening the door.

Six other heads turned to look at the four entering the hideout. The youngest, Roh-Hwang, greeted them with a lopsided smile whilst brushing his hair out of his eyes, "**Welcome back guys, how much did you make?**"

"**Quite a lot,**" Nas-San responded, dumping the contents next to the shitty television that he'd become very well acquainted with. Taking a seat next to the person who just spoke, he scratched his neck and let out a loud, roaring yawn, "**And Hwoarang totally kicked some dumb American's ass. Thought he was hot shit and everything. Was heaps funny.**"

Razer smiled a little at the new people whilst taking a seat next to a recovering Seong-Hada, who warmly hugged her with a grin. Although she didn't understand what was being said, the six people that since joined the gang were all unique in their own way. She didn't like all of them, but she found them all interesting with their own little quirks. Their stories may have been similar in most aspects, but still…

After Nas-San joined, Han-Geong was found by the harbour, watching the waves with nothing but the clotehes on him. He was Hwoarang's height with short, black hair, and he often tied a green bandana over it, so that his hair only stuck out at the front. He was friendly and a vegetarian, and like Nas-San, whom he bonded with the most from the ten, his favourite colour was green.

After him, the youngest arrived of his own accord. He was not found by anybody, but was just wandering around the alleyways and heard voices nearby. Roh-Hwang, whom had known Han-Geong from seeing him at the harbour, was only fourteen, a year younger than Seong-Hada. He had short, dyed brown hair, and when he was nervous, he would always play with it. He grouped himself with Nas-San and Han-Geong usually.

Chang-Sun and Jung-Keun were next. They were found in an alleyway an hour or two away from their hideout, both unconscious and bleeding. Seong-Hada, who had found them, tried to take them to the hospital, but they were turned away. He instead managed to call up Hwoarang and bring both of them back to the hideout, treat them and so on. They were both the same age and had been best friends for many years. Chang-Sun was quiet and devoted to getting a better life for everybody. He had dark brown hair, and in the sunlight, it was practically the same colour as Hwoarang's. Jung-Keun had dyed, light brown hair, and was loud, but also devoted. He was also half Japanese, but knew far more Korean than Japanese in every aspect.

Last were Ki-Yerr and Mijj-Dala. Having only arrived at the hideout a few weeks ago and only a week apart, they immediately meshed together, especially seeing as they had similar ideals. Ki-Yerr was always alert and ready to pounce, with practically black eyes. Mijj-Dala always had a lazy and unaware look on his face, but it was only because it was easier to observe things that way. He also stood out the most in the group. He was always the one spotted from the furthest away, because he _always _wore yellow, and thus had received the nickname 'Banana', much to his distaste. Fortunately it was rarely used.

"Razer Razer!" Seong-Hada chimed, "You'll never guess what I'm gonna do in a sec!"

That was another thing she was happy and proud about. SH's commitment to English paid off, and he could now communicate in the language. He screwed up a lot, but his sentences were now unbroken and correct. Nas-San helped him with that. She leant back and closed her eyes, listening to him ramble on about how he was going to make loads of food once he finished talking, to which she replied, "Then stop talking and start cooking, we're hungry."

And so he got up, heading straight towards the kitchen area to start cooking. Soon enough the others started speaking amongst themselves, and not once did she hear Hwoarang pipe up. Opening her eyes and looking across to him, she noticed he was looking at her in thought, though his eyes shifted to SH any moment he entered the room to make some comment about something or other.

The youth eventually returned with kimchi jjigae for everyone, announcing that he had to use tuna instead of pork today because 'nobody bothered going to grab some pork'. To this, Han-Geong made a face and picked out the tuna, dropping it in the neighbouring Nas-San's bowl whenever he encountered a piece. They ate quickly, because Hwoarang suggested that they go out again to pick up some more cash, as in his opinion, they needed it.

"This is _really _good," Ki-Yerr commented after swallowing another large cabbage piece.

Seong-Hada shrugged, "It's alright, I guess."

"Nah, it is very good. You should learn to trust your cooking abilities more," Razer remarked.

He smiled, "Yeah I know it's good!"

Hwoarang furrowed his eyebrows. Just a moment ago, the Korean said he thought his cooking was average – now he thinks it's _good? _Growling under his breath, he wolfed down the rest of his meal and placed the dishes on the sink, next to the steadily building stack. He patted around his collarbone, looking for his goggles to pull back up and push his hair away, but was annoyed to find they weren't there.

He blew hair out of his face, eventually spotting them in the corner of the main room. Huffing, he crossed the distance to grab them. Once they were in his hands, he pulled them down his head and started to push them up to keep the hair from his eyes, "I hate how long my hair's getting."

She piped up, "I think it looks good."

He dropped it immediately, vaguely aware that he was acting like the man he currently loathed, "As I was saying, I love my long hair."

"Sure you do."

He shrugged and pushed the goggles back up anyway, looking to the others, "I want all of you guys to come down this time. We might be able to have several fights going on at the same time, thus being able to reel in more money, like in pairs or something, or in fives I guess. Anyway hurry up and eat already. You guys are slow."

* * *

"So, do you have a boyyyfriiiend?" Seong-Hada asked, moving up and down on his toes.

Razer quirked an eyebrow, watching Jung-Keun and Chang-Sun fight two other guys, all dressed in leather. She smirked a little as Jung-Keun threw a wicked punch across his opponent's face. Blood flowed from the damaged lip freely, dabbing the concrete in large, red spots, "No. Why?"

"Just curiousss," he paused and then added, "You should have one!"

"Pssh, what for?"

He paused once again, trying to find a way to say what he wanted to say in English. Once he found it, he turned, leaning on the wall, and looked at her, "To make you feel special and see how special you are, yeah? You girls like that type of stuff?"

She shrugged, eyes drifting to an obviously tense Hwoarang. He was obviously listening, though his gaze was solely on the brawl to his left – Nas-San and Han-Geong against another two people. The crowds were small, but they paid a lot, surprisingly, "I guess… But, I already have somebody who makes me feel that way all the time."

"I thought you had no boyfriend? Who can give you that?"

"Oh, someone. And he knows I appreciate it and try to give him the same."

"So you _do _have a boyfriend."

"**She doesn't have a boyfriend, Seong-Hada. Drop it already,**" Hwoarang growled, aware of the small smile on his face.

"**Agh!**" Han-Geong hissed, clutching his hurt elbow, "**I'm down! I give up!**"

"**You loser,**" Nas-San sighed. He'd already been injured and couldn't participate any further.

Where as they lost, Jung-Keun and Chang-Sun won. Hwoarang walked out and stood between both circles with Seong-Hada. Whilst he spoke, the latter dished out and collected money, "**Okay so that was interesting. Loved that right hook, Jung-Keun. Anyway, is there anyone else who wants a go, here? Because we're just about done for the night. You can pick out your opponent and shit. Just make it good. Two matches, one here,**" he pointed to where Han-Geong and Nas-San had been, "**And one here,**" and to where Jung-Keun and Chang-Sun had been.

Two people stepped out of the shadows, dressed all in leather like the previous people had been. It was here that the Blood Talon realised that the people they'd been fighting so far must've been another street gang. Not only that but, their faces were scarily familiar. Aged, but familiar, and he couldn't quite put his finger on it. It seemed the two men registered similarly when they saw him.

"_**You…**_" the taller one growled.

"**Me?**" he remarked, bored.

The other one's gaze turned to Razer, "**It's definitely him, look at the girl.**"

The taller one did, and his eyebrows rose in surprise, "**So it is…**"

Where as Hwoarang could not identify them immediately, the Greek picked up on it straight away.

_The man's fellow male accomplice laughed, "__**Well hello to you too, **_**sweetheart.**"

Do you remember when you ran away from the dojang from the first time?

"_**Stupid girl. Just lie down and play dead.**__"_

She nodded slightly, _I remember._

_Athane jumped back quickly, coughing, trying to clear her throat, and turned her head to her right, where her saviour stood. Her forest green eyes widened slightly, and she spoke through a weak voice, "Hwoarang…?"_

It is them. All these years on, and of all of the people, it is Man-Su and Dong-Wook.

Man-Su pushed his sunglasses higher up his face. He looked to Hwoarang again, "**You're that kid from four years ago in the alleyways near the shopping centre. Same goggles, same red hair, similar clothes, and the same, **_**stupid **_**look on your face. The one who beat us when you **_**shouldn't **_**have.**"

"_**The little girl's **_**boyfriend **_**has come to her aid! Hahahahaaa… You seriously think that you two kids will be able to stop us? **_**Please. **_**This'll be so much fun.**__"_

"_**We'll see how much fun it is when you're both lying unconscious on the ground!**__"_

Hwoarang's eyes widened a little once the memory replayed, more in amusement than surprise, "**Oh, its you losers! How's it going? Did you tell your friends about how you ran away from two kids that were barely in their teens?**" He chuckled and waved his hand, "**I'm sure your friends had a good giggle.**"

Dong-Wook hissed and sat up a little taller, "**You and your gang need to leave this district. We already occupy it, and there can be only one gang in each one. The opponents your underlings fought were **_**our **_**underlings. Couldn't you tell with the jackets? Get out of here if you know what's good for you.**"

"**I'm so scared! Oh my God you guys, I'm gonna piss myself in a minute!**" he waved his hand again after hearing a few snickers from the crowd and the people in his gang, "**Look, pick your opponents and whatever, prepare to lose, then fuck off, okay? I don't have time to deal with little shits like you. It's not like we're gonna overthrow you for control of this area anyway, we're just existing.**"

"**So exist with us in our ranks, or be killed,**" Man-Su murmured, stepping into the left ring.

"**I'll pass on both. Who do you want to fight?**"

"**You.**"

He shrugged and got into the ring with him, "**Fine. And what about you, ugly?**"

Dong-Wook, who was already in the circle, pointed to Razer, "**Her. I want to right the wrong. She should've been the one to go down, not me.**"

"**Okay. **Razer, get in there. Be careful."

She shrugged and zipped her jacket up to combat the cold weather, thereafter sliding into stance, "You too."

SH, perplexed by the entire situation, slid in the middle, "**Any bets?**" People came, and once that was all done, he looked at them both, "**No tricks okay? No guns or knives or – give those sunglasses to me, Mr Man-Su! You could take out Hwoarang's eyes with that!**" he extended his hand.

"**And that would be a **_**real **_**shame…**" Man-Su hissed, throwing the item at the man in the middle.

"**Okay. Um… Go!**"

Man-Su launched himself at Hwoarang, hoping that his shoulder attack would strike the man, and hard. Hwoarang lazily weaved out of the way, and as he sidestepped, span in a small circle, tripping up his opponent with a flick of his right leg. After that attack, he brought across his left leg, then his right, and then leapt up and conducted Hunting Hawk, watching as he landed before his gang mates.

Rolling out of the way from a strong heel strike, Man-Su reached out and grabbed the leg that the Korean was supporting himself on. His grip was tight around the ankle, and he made sure to dig all of his fingers and both of his thumbs deep into the flesh. With a firm and hard pull, the youth went down, smashing his head on the concrete. From there, Man-Su jumped up, still holding the same leg with the same grip, and aimed to dislocate it.

Anticipating the action, the 17-year-old used his other leg, bringing it up as far as he could and stabbing the spur of his boot into the man's side. He let go immediately, feeling his clothes and skin tear deeply at the wound. Blood started to drip out. An angry scowl set in deep on his features, and it only got angrier still as the aggressive assault continued – kick after kick, punch after punch.

Opposite to them, Razer was having a difficult time landing an attack on Dong-Wook. For every strike she missed, she was punished with three, usually to the head. She was becoming dizzy from such attacks, but remained focused. Devil helped her stay on her toes and throw the attacks, because she did not want to lose the match either, especially to someone they'd already beaten once before.

She kicked him low, the tip of her boot grinding into the side of his knee. He growled and jumped out of the way of a similar attack, and to counter, palmed her once in the side, once at the side of her head, and once in the stomach. After the stomach attack, he did a roundhouse kick, making sure to hit her in the same place. Gleefully watching her crumble forward and hold the wounded area, he stepped all the way around her body, unnoticed.

"**You were lucky that one time,**" Dong-Wook seethed, grabbing her from behind. He held her shoulders and pulled her body down, raising his knee at the same time, slamming it into her lower back. She hissed in pain, causing him to chuckle. As she tried to get away, he grabbed her arm again, and summoning all of his strength, hurled her into the wall on his right, the one that made the end of his circle, "**But you won't get lucky again!**"

That attack provided a great distraction for Hwoarang, whose game face cracked. At this, Man-Su imitated his second-in-command's actions, hurling the Blood Talon into the wall on his left, the one that made the end of _his _circle. He laughed as his opponent crumpled against it, and he rushed forward, hoping to slam his fist into his face, "**Hey, can we take her once we're done? We would've grabbed her if you hadn't have stopped us last time. We need a good prostitute like her around. How much does the slut charge?**"

A sweeping kick had him trip over entirely and land at an awkward angle. Man-Su's face was on the wall, whilst his body was curving backwards. Taking a few steps back, Hwoarang launched another kick at his side, but with the footing he had done beforehand, he was surprised slightly to realise it was more like a soccer kick than a Tae Kwon Do kick, "**She's not a prostitute or a slut, and she's not going anywhere.**"

"**You amuse me, kid!**" Man-Su threw out a low of his own, but the youth leapt clear of it. He did not anticipate the second kick, however, which was a high and collided with his chest, sending him back again. As he landed on his feet, Man-Su swayed a little and waved his hand, "**Come on then! Show me why you've become the buzz of the alleys!**"

Taking a few steps back, Hwoarang ran towards Man-Su again and leapt into the air. Whilst in the air, he span not once, but twice, before his foot slammed into his opponent's jaw. He heard Man-Su howl in pain, and as he landed, he threw out his opposite foot in a Cheap Snap Shot Kick. He smirked a little as his opponent swayed again, only disorientated instead of in a teasing manner. Man-Su ran at him again, an elbow strike at the ready.

Meanwhile, somewhere during the turn of events, Razer evened out the blow exchanges. For every one she delivered, she was given one in return. Dong-Wook's endurance was much less than what she remembered of it. That, or hers had increased dramatically, and given the knowledge she had, she assumed the latter was the most likely. She kicked him in the shin, and in return, the side of both of his hands slammed into either side of her body, causing her to reel yet again. Such a strange but effective attack.

She reached out to grab him, but he avoided it. Because of that, she fell forward slightly, and copped a knee to the shoulder as consequence. Grabbing him by the hair, she held him in place and slammed her fist squarely into his face. She felt his nose give way beneath her fists, and blood slowly started to leak. Dong-Wook took several steps back, spewing forth Korean words that she did not know. He charged at her again, aiming to tackle her to the ground.

He is tired and easy to manipulate now. Look at his run, it is sloppy compared to what it was beforehand. Try and grab him, Devil suggested, Make sure you slam your shoe into his neck, push as _hard _as you can. I want to see a dent in the muscle when you are done! Quickly now, before he evades you again!

Doing as she was told, she indeed grabbed Dong-Wook from the side before he ran off once more. She slammed her boot into his neck, and then moving it up to his head, pushing hard, to the point where it soon felt unnatural. A crack was heard, and pleased with her action, she dropped the man, who was now dead, and took a few steps back, breathing in and out firmly. Her fight was done, but Hwoarang's was still going. SH was sorting out money, though his face was clearly showing signs of queasiness at the corpse nearby.

Man-Su looked to what was his former best friend lying on the ground at the feet of the woman. Rage swept through his veins, "**You… What the hell?!**"

Razer tilted her head slightly, unsure of what he was saying. She furrowed her eyebrows, waiting for him to do or say something next. What she didn't expect, though, was for him to leave his arena and come after her, fists deathly white and shaking violently. At this, Hwoarang immediately stopped him from getting any closer, grabbing Man-Su by the back of the shirt and pulling him back to his circle, "**Your fight is with **_**me.**_ **And seeing as you stepped out, that classifies as a surrender. You lose, idiot.**"

"**You didn't say that I couldn't leave the ring before…**" Man-Su seethed.

"**No, but I did say it at the start of the bets, and **_**I know **_**you were there, teetering around at the back, ordering your men to get in there and fight mine. Get out of my sight.**"

Man-Su lashed out again, his punch colliding with the Blood Talon's jaw. The force of the strike had him bite his tongue hard, and, annoyed, he threw a punch of his own out. Immediately coming up with another way to humiliate him, he pushed him backwards, causing him to stumble, and ripped down his black, leather pants, leaving him in nothing but his boxers.

At this, laughter brewed. Jung-Keun shouted a statement, first in Korean then in English, repeatedly, "**Man-Su wears no pan-tsu! **Man-Su wears no pan-tsu! Bahahahahaha!"

Man-Su pulled them back up hurriedly and hissed, "**I'll get you for humiliating me like this, kid…**" His eyes, large and infuriated, turned to the foreigner, "**And I'll get you for killing Dong-Wook. Mark my words… You will pay. Both of you.**"

Razer joined Hwoarang's side, both of their hands stuffed deep into their pockets. They watched as he and his men turned to leave, shoulders hunched, and without his beloved sunglasses. The black figures retreated into the foggy distance, and like them, the crowd and their friends parted as well. They soon followed, looking to the ground.


	31. Lovesick Melody

Author's Note: Good news! I'm actually writing a bit more and have (kinda) adapted to my Uni schedule :) This is for TeaC0sy. STAY HAPPY!

* * *

_**Chapter Thirty-One: Lovesick Melody**_

A tired Razer Athane trudged into the hideout, furiously rubbing her sore shoulder. Cursing under her breath in Greek, she surveyed the area silently, noticing how the place somewhat lacked life, particularly over the past few weeks. Nas-San was asleep on the couch, as was Chang-Sun, but he was on the floor. Jung-Keun waved at her and placed a finger to his lips, before returning to his card game with Seong-Hada. She couldn't see Han-Geong, Roh-Hwang, Ki-Yerr or Mijj-Dala anywhere.

She strolled over, hearing Hwoarang walk in behind her, just as beat up. Peeking over Jung-Keun's shoulder, she noticed the rather good hand that he had. And, it was obvious by the Doritos chips on the table, that the two were playing poker with food. Taking one from Seong-Hada's pile, she ate it in a teasing manner, much to the frustration of the 15-and-a-half-year-old. Smirking, she murmured to the man next to her, "Looks like you have a winning hand."

"I know. I just wanna watch him squirm," Jung-Keun grinned, tapping his fingers on the countertop.

With every tap, it was clear that Seong-Hada was becoming more and more worried. He bit his lip and scratched his arm, fiddling with the cardboard objects, moving them back and forth in his hand. With one final breath, he put down his hand, revealing three jacks, "**Here's what I have. What do you have…?**"

"**Four kings,**" he announced, revealing his hand.

"**What? Noooo!**" he whined, covering his eyes. If he can't see the four kings, then they're not real! Hmph.

Jung-Keun grinned and collected all of the Doritos chips that were between them. Shoving a few in his mouth, he watched as their gang leader walked by, wiping the sweat off his face with the shirt he had been wearing upon entry. He called out, "**Yo Hwoarang, you wanna play or something man?**"

"**In a minute,**" he growled, dropping the bottom of his shirt. The cloth clung to his form awkwardly, as he finally found his water bottle sitting in a lonely corner. He unscrewed the lid and took a long sip before speaking again, turning to look at the man, "**Razer and I got some more cash near the airport, so we're kinda tired…**"

"**Oh, I see. Maybe some poker will help you wind down. Just pull up a chair or something and we'll start.**"

"**He can take my chair,**" Seong-Hada chimed, jumping off his stool. Brushing himself off and adjusting his shirt, he spoke once more, "**I'm done playing this ridiculous game anyway. It's boring and I keep losing at it.**"

"**That's because you suck,**" Jung-Keun remarked.

"**Oh go eat your Doritos chips and keep your secretive cards to yourself…**" he walked off, setting his sights on Razer, who was currently sitting on a chair, rubbing her stinging thighs. Sitting a bit taller and puffing his chest out slightly, he strolled over in a (hopefully) calm and collected manner, he took a seat next to her, and conjured up an English greeting in the most cheerful voice he could, "Hello!"

"Hi," she replied, seemingly uninterested. She was just in pain and wasn't happy about it.

He frowned a little, "How are you?"

"Sleepy."

"Aw…"

Silence. Razer looked to her friend and smiled a little, "How are you?"

His face lit up, and he sat up a little taller, pointing to himself, "I'm good! Are you hungry?"

She giggled and nodded a little, but the sadness was still evident, "Yes."

"I'll find food, you wait here."

She nodded again and smiled whole-heartedly, "Okay."

He was the definition of cute, the master of being adorable… though he had no idea, and that only added to his charm. Innocent and naïve little Seong-Hada – far from the baby of the group, but he was the most childish and unsuspecting of them all mentally. In this group though, he was not the fighter – he was the Mother. He would look after them if they were wounded, and cook their meals for them when they were hungry. Yes, he could fight… but over time they all learnt that it was not his way.

Until proven the enemy, everyone was his friend.

From his place before the empty cupboards, he could hear Razer's stomach grumble. She was incredibly hungry, and he felt his heart sink when he realised that there was absolutely no food in the hideout. He pretended to continue his search, standing on his toes and checking the back of the cupboard, all the while mentally pondering what he was going to do. He couldn't just have her starve now, could he? Maybe they could go and get some food with the money that both she and Hwoarang recently acquired.

…_That's a good idea, _he thought to himself.

Closing the cupboard doors behind him, he rushed towards her and grabbed her wrist, trying to pull her to her feet, "There's no food here. Let's go get some! Be right back!"

Shakily standing to her feet, she was dragged out of the hideout. She glanced to Hwoarang over her shoulder, who seemed to be delivering a death glare at the younger Korean. She shot a sympathetic smile back to him, as though to let him know that everything was going to be fine.

* * *

He walked back to their table. In one hand, Seong-Hada held a bowl of soup. Not exactly the tastiest of food, but they needed to try and save as much money as they could. He didn't mind taking down the tastiness of his food for another. In the other hand was a plate of vegetables and fruits, something he knew that the Greek would like. He wasn't entirely sure what to purchase for her, and considering how tired she was, he just took a random guess. After all, she preferred to eat fruit in the morning. Perhaps it's the same now?

He stopped a few feet away and grinned to himself. She was so tired that she was lying over the table, her covered arms above her head. In the crook of her elbows, her head rested comfortably. She looked quite cute sitting like that; but regardless, she needed to eat. Eating would make her feel more awake too, so it was important to get that food into her stomach as fast as possible.

Moving again, he pulled the chair back with his foot, ignoring the wooden feet's screeching sounds over the timber floor. He gently placed his soup on the table, before with one hand, lightly shoving Razer back into an awake state. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, watching as he placed her food before her as well. Looking at it for a moment, she grabbed the accompanying fork and smiled at him, "Thank you."

His smile grew. He took up his spoon and gave her the thumbs up gesture with his other hand, "You're welcome."

They ate in silence, one wolfing down his food at lightning speed, the other merely nudging her food around and picking at it slowly. SH continued to watch, bouncing his leg underneath the table, noticing her seemingly sad disposition. Furrowing his eyebrows, he ate some more of his soup, watching the vegetables tumble over the fruits, and visa versa.

A piece of a carrot fell off the plate. He snatched it up immediately and placed it back in the bowl, "You dropped this."

"Thank you."

"What's wrong?" he asked, unable to take it anymore, "You're sad."

She shook her head, a small smile on her face, "It is nothing. I just feel tired and a little sick."

"Sick?" he frowned, "Is there something wrong with the food? I'll go and throw it in the chef's face if it made you sick!"

A light laugh, "No, no! Don't do that."

Pleased that he invoked a happy emotion out of her, he took another hurried spoonful and swallowed it just as fast. Looking down at the food, he spoke once again, "Where are you sick? If it not your tummy then… head? Is it your head?"

"To an extent, yes," she answered, placing a cut piece of an apple in her mouth. She chewed, staring into space, and continued to talk, "But I'm more referring to the dizziness and weakness from the fighting. It should pass soon, so don't worry…" Swallowing, she refocussed her gaze on the Korean, "Do you think something is wrong with Hwoarang? He's been acting abnormal around me for a long time now, and I don't like it."

"Ab…nor…mal?"

"Atypical."

Seong-Hada furrowed his eyebrows, trying to understand. He bit his lip, "Um… Simpler, please?"

She nodded a little, "Sorry, SH. 'Abnormal' and 'atypical' basically mean 'strange' and 'weird'."

"Hwoarang's acting weird around you?"

"Yes. Any idea why?"

He frowned, looking down. He knew why, and it wasn't because of her – it was because of _him. _Sighing, he looked back up, looking out the window. He easily contained a laugh when a man got splashed by a large puddle, curtesy of a car driving by, "I don't think it's you. He cares too much about you to… go funny. Maybe you're seeing things?"

_Because he loves you, he fucking loves you so much, but he hides it from you, and you hate it because it hurts so much, because you think he trusts you with _everything – _but he won't trust you with that, and you wonder why. But I wonder if deep down, you know his secret. You're very well-tuned, you must have an idea. Do you know _my_ secret?_

"No, he's changed, something's definitely pissing him off," she sighed, "I wish I knew what."

"_**Stay away from her,**__" Hwoarang growled, releasing his hold on the youth._

Seong-Hada hurriedly gulped some more food down. That memory happened only a week ago, and it still upset him to think on it, "I'm sure he's just being protective of you. We're a new gang, just 'existing' like he's said. There are others who want to break us all up and kill us, or have us join them, if you remember. He cares about you a lot, so he's just looking out for you."

"Did he say this?"

He grinned, "No."

"Then…?"

"I just know," he sat up a little taller and placed a closed fist over his chest, tapping twice, "I know in here."

She smiled wholeheartedly, causing his own grin to widen, "Thanks, SH. That makes me feel better."

He went to scoop up some more soup, only to realise that he had nothing left. Shrugging, he placed the spoon neatly in the bowl, before leaning back, patting his stomach. Closing his eyes and resting the base of his skull on the back of the chair, he spoke again, "Any time, Razer. Just remember, he'll always care about you."

Time seemed to pass rather quickly. The next thing he knew, he could feel breath on his face, and surprised, his eyes hurriedly snapped open to find the Greek looking down on him – but her face was upside down. It took him a minute to process that she was standing behind him and bending over, looking at him, to achieve that. Smiling slightly, he extended his left hand and patted her head awkwardly, their position making it hard to do so.

"You're a great friend," she said, grabbing both of his wrists. Pulling him up, she continued, "I'm glad I met you. Thanks again."

"You're welcome!" he chirped, standing up to leave with her.

* * *

The youth sitting on the chair tapped his foot in time with the music blaring from the shitty radio they found not too long ago. He had positioned it so that it was facing the door, and he'd been waiting for a while for the pair to return. Hwoarang still didn't like SH and was still worried for his friends' safety when around him. A part of him said that he was overreacting, but the stronger, more possessive part was reigning supreme.

When the door creaked open, he felt his face hardening in anger. Laughter bounced through the area, and jokes were thrown this way and that. _He _should've been the one making that laughter, like he _always _did. He soon saw both figures enter the room, and after closing the door behind them, the female froze, shocked at the irritation on his face. She spoke cautiously, "Hwoarang? Are you alright?"

His eyes darted to Seong-Hada, who was trying to get by him unnoticed. Pssh. He stood up immediately and grabbed the 15-and-a-half-year-old by the shirt, pinning him against the wall without looking. He spoke lowly, looking at the woman, "**I thought I told you to keep away from her, you untrustworthy, shrewd little…**"

"**What the hell, Hwoarang!**" SH hissed, "**All I did was take her to get food, it's not like I did anything else!**" To his surprise, he manage to throw off the redhead and continued to shout, angry, "**Why are you such an asshole to me? what have I done to you! I've cooked for you, I've helped you steal things, I've put bandages on you when you've hurt yourself! I've been nothing but a supportive friend!**"

"**Friends don't go about flirting with their friends' crushes,**" when he went to open his mouth again, Hwoarang silenced him, "**Don't give me that shit, I can tell you're totally attracted to **_**my best friend, **_**ever since she took your hand and pulled you up out of that stupid alley. And I know you know that I like her, just like everybody else here except for the woman herself.**"

"**And instead of procrastinating about how much you care about her or whatever, I think you should grow some balls and tell her yourself instead of cowering about whether or not me or someone else will 'steal her' from you before you get the courage to!**"

The moment the last word left his mouth, Hwoarang finally unleashed the punch he'd wanted to throw after all of these months, watching it dig deep into his cheek. He ignored Razer's exclamation, as well as the silence from the other individuals. Grabbing his jumper from the chair he'd been sitting on, he left the hideout, still seething deep down, because as much as he didn't want to admit it, Seong-Hada was right.

* * *

_How did I end up here…?_

He swallowed, already feeling tears prick at his eyes. Still holding the woollen jumper close to him, he took slow steps towards the gate, opening it to pass through. It creaked like he remembered and the whole fence shuddered as it closed. He wanted to walk up the concrete pathway and onto the stairs, but he had to remind himself that there was nothing there anymore.

Instead of taking the automatic path, he turned right, treading through the long blades of grass that hadn't been tended to for a long time. He went down along the side, turning the corner, and then jumped the fence that was a little taller than the one out the front. After that, he continued making his way down, feeling those few tears fall at the sight of the giant cherry tree, its leaves fully alive again.

He'd taken himself home without even realising it.

Rushing to the tree he loved to play on as a child, he threw his arms around it and hugged it, breathing it in too. He didn't expect himself to act this way, but he was just happy that the tree was so comforting for him. Letting go, he placed a hand on it and looked around for the little Hangul carving he made when he was eight years old.

Spotting 'Hwoarang rules' closer towards the roots, he smiled and quickly climbed up it, looking for a large, sturdy branch to sit on. Once he found it, he sat down, leaning against the trunk of the tree, and tossed the jumper over his jean-clad legs, merely leaving them there. He looked towards the skeletal structure of the dojang, surprised to find that nobody had destroyed it nor cleaned it up yet. He recreated every room in his mind, grinning a little as he did.

Despite himself, he found himself talking as though he were addressing Baek, "**Man that's so messy, it still needs to be cleaned up and all. A year… Shit. It's been a while, hmm? Well, I should've come here sooner, but… Just didn't think I was ready. And according to my subconscious, I'm apparently ready to face this or whatever. I shouldn't mope over something I can't change… **

"**Hope you're okay and all. I know you wouldn't have approved of that punch not so long ago but the asshole deserved it…**" he looked up at the swaying leaves, "**I could really use your guidance right about now. How did you tell all of those women that you liked them? It's hard. You're obviously a lot braver than I could ever be, even all of this time later.**

"**I also know you think I'm overreacting. To be honest I think I am too but, I had to get it out and all, you know? Pssh… Well you always told me to expel my feelings,**" he started to curl up a little and close up again, breathing out shakily, "**Enough about me, what are you doing? Do they have coffee for you, the way you like it? A newspaper as well? Have they got anything good up there on TV?**"

A bird above him flew away. He watched it fly north.

"**You know… It really feels like…**" he looked over his left shoulder, "**you're behind me.**"

* * *

Nas-San entered the hideout, rubbing his face tiredly. He'd gone out to earn a little more money. It wasn't much, but he was pleased with efforts. Closing the door behind him, he called out, "**Anybody here?**"

"**Yes! I'm here!**" Seong-Hada called through the darkness,"**Hello!**"

Suddenly, there was a loud crash. Nas-San jumped, hearing SH cry out in agitation and pain. Curious, he extended his arm to his left and flicked on the light, seeing the youth sprawled on the floor. The trashcan was underneath his feet, and the contents were scattered all over the place. Slumped across the youth's face were Man-Su's black sunglasses.

"**Dammit Seong-Hada,**" Nas-San sighed, walking over to help him up, "**First you ran into the wall wearing those shades, and now this. Just take em off inside, okay?**"

"**But they're comfy! And that trash can wasn't there last night!**"

"**If you don't take it off, I'll break them.**"

He did so hurriedly and stood, cleaning up the mess he made as well. Stretching and adjusting to the new lights, he started to speak, "**I take it you didn't find Hwoarang?**"

"**Nope. It's been a day now. Got sick of searching so, I made some cash instead. I dunno what he was getting all emo about man, but…**" he shrugged and placed the money in the pile on the table, "**You were right to say what you said. Makes me wonder how this Baek guy dealt with him. Do you know anything about that?**"

He shook his head, "**Not really… I just know that he was like a Father to him, and trained both he and Razer. I wish I knew more, it'd explain why he always goes so rigid and gets really upset when a memory of that man pops up, or when he's mentioned. He really meant a lot to him, obviously. I guess he'll talk when he's ready. I don't want to force the information out of either of them.**"

"**Hm.**"

Just then, the door opened again. Razer entered and closed it behind her, running her fingers through her hair, _Where the fuck could that asshole be?_

Obviously not on the hill, Devil drawled, bored, Besides, it is too late at night to go and look for him anymore now. Just leave it. If he wants to be a sook because of whatever the hell SH said, then let him be a sook.

Noticing her distress, Nas-San patted her shoulder lightly before retreating to the bedroom he shared with Seong-Hada. The blue-haired man remained behind, eyebrows furrowed and not liking the disappointed, confused look on her face. He strolled over and placed both hands on her shoulders, looking at him, "No luck?" she shook her head. He frowned a little, "He'll come back. He wouldn't leave you, no way! That's like me leaving an unfinished hambagah!"

"'Hamburger'," she said.

"Whatever. You get what I mean, yeah?"

"I suppose. I guess I'll just sleep on it. I'm so tired," she rubbed her eyes and shrugged off the younger man's hands, and headed towards their shared bedroom, "Wake me if he comes in. Nobody slap him, I'll do that myself and for all of us."

"Okay."

* * *

Another day had passed when he stumbled back in, eyes puffy and red, breath tinged with alcohol. He was also humming a song to himself.

He ran a finger through his hair and coughed, berating himself. It was cold, he had a really bad headache, and… _damn _he was cold. Frosty breath slipped from his lips as he exhaled, coughing once again. Slamming the door closed behind him, Hwoarang rubbed his eyes and navigated past the crap on the floor, heading to his room, hoping to be unnoticed.

"**Welcome back,**" SH remarked tentatively. He was up making coffee.

"**Thanks,**" Deciding that his limbs were too frozen to get to bed, for now, he sat on the nearest chair and rubbed his hands together. He'd been doing a lot of thinking, sticking to the dojang. He saw Razer pass by once, obviously looking for him, but he was well cloaked in the tree, to his surprise. That, and he knew from experience that she couldn't 'search' to save her life. In his thinking, he came to the conclusion that he indeed acted _way _too rashly.

The younger male returned with the completed coffee. Noticing how cold he was, he furrowed his eyebrows and stuck out the beverage to his gang leader, clearing his throat. The ceramic confinement was very hot, and his fingers were starting to burn, "**Here. Drink this, you'll feel warmer. You need it more than I do. Come on, drink it.**"

Hwoarang nodded a little and brought the mug to his lips, taking in a large gulp. It burned, but slowly put life back into his body. Still shaking from the cold, he looked to him, noticing that he had settled next to him and was looking at the television, despite the fact that it was off. He spoke again, though weakly, and his voice was cloggy, "**Sorry for punching you.**"

"**It's okay… I realised something,**" he remarked slowly, "**Yeah fine you love her, we can see that. But she cares about you too, in that way. Or it looks like it. You just need to say something, yeah? Or her. I dunno. I didn't say anything, so don't hurt me! She was so worried about you, she's done nothing but search and sleep,**" he stood up and went to his bedroom to sleep, "**By the way, be prepared for some slapping tomorrow.**"

"**Great.**"


	32. This Is War

Author's Note: Oh shi – I updated :P Is this distracting enough, TeaC0sy? XD Also, thank you FFN for removing double punctuation! -facepalm-

* * *

_**Chapter Thirty-Two: This Is War **_

"**Hey! I put in five million won for that fight, and you blew it! **_**Idiot!**_"

Ki-Yerr scoffed at the person who spoke. His angular face looked at his beaten opponent, whom the speaker was addressing, seeing cuts gaping open and dribbling blood. Shaking his head with boredom and disgust, he turned away and left the area, with the cash and Mijj-Dala. Smirking, he called all bets and fights over. It was only when Mijj-Dala stopped him from leaving the tiny alley entirely did he look over his shoulder and stop, seeing the man who he beat slowly stand to his feet, with aid of the shouting better.

"**What gang do you belong to?**" the fighter growled.

"**Our leader is Hwoarang,**" Mijj-Dala answered, "**Red hair, goggles. He's off somewhere else at the moment.**"

"**Just like Man-Su said…**" he grinned.

His eyes widened, "**Wait, you're with those guys?**"

"**Get yourselves ready… In a few days time, we're warring. You shouldn't be here. We were **_**always **_**here first, going back **_**at least**_** fifteen years… Get off of our territory and find your own, or prepare to die in the street war. We will not compromise,**" with that, the pair left, one limping, the other not.

Ki-Yerr looked to his accomplice quickly before sprinting off to the hideout, where he knew the others would be soon enough.

* * *

"**Are you serious?**" Han-Geong whined, rubbing his temples, "**They're just empty, useless streets...**"

"**Which they're prepared to kill and die for,**" Roh-Hwang reminded.

"**It's just dumb. 'That lamppost is **_**mine, **_**bitch!' I mean, what the hell?**"

"**Yeah it is stupid, but like I said, they're prepared to kill and die for that lamppost.**"

"**Let's think about this,"** Hwoarang remarked, staring at the floor. He didn't want to admit it but he was frightened. He wasn't even eighteen yet and he was about to command an 'army' into _a war. _He had no idea how to do either of those things and he was terrified that he would lose his friends like he had lost Baek and his parents, "**They want us to get the hell out of here so they can 'reclaim' their 'territory'. I know fuck all about territory in the rest of Seoul, but considering it's the capital, I'm willing to bet there'll be another gang in every district. If we move, what's to say that we won't be harassed by another gang in the exact same way?**" he looked up, "**And if we fight, we could die.**"

Nas-San tapped the wall, cutting in for a moment, "**And why are you so afraid of death? We did nothing wrong here, we should fight for the small home we got and for the money we made. Show 'em that just because we're young doesn't mean we're weak or to be taken advantage of.**"

Hwoarang said nothing and refocused his gaze on Seong-Hada. Since clearing up their former disputes, he'd grown attached to the youth, and considered him and Razer to be the closest to him, like a second in command. He trusted him now, wholly, and that was a big statement considering he did not even trust everybody else yet, "**Hey, what do you think? I know you're not really a fighter, you're more like a Mother. I don't want you going quiet on me, so put in your two cents.**"

SH hesitated, fiddling with his hands, "**I think we should fight.**"

He was hoping that he would say 'run', "**How come?**"

"**Because if we don't stand up to the bully, then they'll keep picking on us until we give in. And none of us are like that... Not even me.**"

Nodding a little, he stood, trying to be strong. He couldn't be weak in their eyes, "**I guess it's settled then. We should find and buy some shit to prepare for this. I think knives will be a good start, I'm not so sure about guns. We just want to fend them off, not kill them.**"

He left them to talk amongst themselves and went to explain his decision to the girl who did not understand the language.

* * *

He felt like a commander.

A commander, standing with his soldiers around him. He was strongly reminded of that assembly where he played guitar and sung for the first time in front of a large crowd – his friends were there with unwavering support for him, and he had just that once again. They were waiting for his orders, positioned at various corners of the alleyways in pairs. From his position, the Blood Talon could see them all – he could see everything. The wolf truly had a pack now, one he made – and he was still the alpha male.

Unlike last time though, he would not strike first. He had to wait for them to come out of hiding, wait for them to crawl from the shadows and unveil themselves, and then attack ruthlessly. He could feel his hands shake, and he didn't like that, so he tried to calm himself from the things that could happen in a matter of minutes. All of the mental preparation didn't do as much as he'd hoped, so he hoped at least the physical preparations he'd made would.

He released a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding when he heard something rustle straight ahead of him. In the darkness of the night, they were here, cloaked and waiting until their control shattered. He knew none of his soldiers' control would break, because they'd proven themselves to him that they were indeed strong. One of his hands was in his pockets, and the other was hanging down the right side of his body, holding one of two knives he'd found not so long ago.

He was nudged from behind lightly. Leaning back, he waited for Razer to say whatever she needed to say, "Please be careful."

"You too."

The darkness suddenly melted away. There was a bright, shining light coming directly in front of him, and Hwoarang then realised it was Man-Su, holding a small torch in one hand, and nothing in the other. He smirked and tossed the tiny lamp on the ground, not watching it roll across the concrete ground and settle into a corner. The little light illuminated a surprisingly large area, and the moonlight helped as well. He heard more sound around him and quickly glanced to his right, where Seong-Hada and Nas-San stood, waiting and on guard. To his left was Ki-Yerr and Mijj-Dala, and behind him and his partner was Jung-Keun and Chang-Sun. Han-Geong and Roh-Hwang were up ahead of him, behind his adversary.

"**I told you to leave,**" Man-Su scoffed.

"**I told you I'm staying,**" Hwoarang replied calmly.

Man-Su shook his head and withdrew a knife of his own from his pocket, "**So be it.**"

He approached the younger Korean, spinning the knife around in his hand. It was when he was a few feet away did Hwoarang shout 'now' and throw his knife at Man-Su, putting on that calm, unemotional mask as it dug deep into his opponent's muscular arm. He growled in pain and was soon shoulder-charged to the ground, his head colliding with it. He felt something dripping down his neck, and he identified it quickly to be blood.

This is war.

Once he threw off the redhead, he found himself rushed by two of his lackeys from behind, pinning him to the ground again. He felt two identical stinging sensations on his forearms, and he realised he'd been cut and that the knife that was already ebbed in his arm was pushed deeper in. Growling again, he found the strength within himself to rise to his feet and throw them off, like a bear, and he swung around, knife in hand, and slashed at the three of them, the knife going across all of their chests. That'll teach them for sticking that close together.

Tearing the knife from his arm, he quickly looked to his right to where he saw that girl battling off his men. She was having trouble, but she was still holding her ground. Smirking, he threw his opponent's knife at her, hoping to strike her in the back of her head and have her killed – but by some unfortunate miracle, she'd dodged at that precise moment. The knife had struck his man in the heart, and he fell forwards, dead.

Another soldier brought down by luck.

He went to close in on her unsuspecting, rising form, but he was tripped over by the man who'd become known on the streets as the 'Blood Talon'. He'd wondered where the kid got the name, because it was unusual to have one on the streets, but regardless – and now he felt the spur of his boot carve up his side. The smallest of the three lifted him up and held him against the wall, breathing harshly – all he could smell was cigarettes and pot. The other two were just attacking.

Summoning the strength from deep inside, he threw off the smaller man and knocked over the other lackey, leaving him with Hwoarang. He raised a leg and brought it into the side of his head, sending him down with the other two. He vaguely heard the redhead mutter commands to the two, and they left him to deal with the fight on his own. The girl had passed down another alleyway, going to fight along side the blue-haired boy.

Man-Su and Hwoarang exchanged blows for a long time. With every punch sent, a kick connected. Knives were in the mix as well, acting like small swords. Their persistent clashing bounced between the walls, and for a moment both were reminded of old, mythical tales.

Elsewhere, the smaller gang was successfully managing to hold back the larger one. The waves were not overpowering the stone. Nas-San's strength was proving to be a great asset. Three of Man-Su's men came at him, and each of them were dispatched with a few, strong punches to the face. Though said men were not killed, one was knocked unconscious and the other two became entirely dazed. In said daze, they somehow thought it would be a good idea to go for the weakest and youngest of the three, who had no skill in wielding the blade, let along setting up a kick.

To their surprise, Seong-Hada did a roundhouse kick and sent them all to the floor, and as a consequence, they too became unconscious. Though he had no trained skill and had not been in enough fights, he still had natural skill and instinct to guide him – and that's just what he did. He exploited every opening and blocked every attack that came from the coming men who stepped over the unconscious bodies of their fellow gang mates.

Chang-Sun and Jung-Keun were proving to be a great team, as were Ki-Yerr and Mijj-Dala. The first pair used trickery the area to their advantage, using the darkness in particular and improvising trickery. They ran through the alleyways, having Man-Su's men chase them, and when the lackey lost them, both would come straight out of hiding and attack him mercilessly on both sides. Ki-Yerr and Mijj-Dala were ruthless and united. If Ki-Yerr struck mid, then Mijj-Dala struck low. They just went on and on in that pattern and in that formation, bringing them down.

And then a gunshot sounded.

Man-Su lowered the formerly concealed weapon, aware that the eyes of both gangs were squarely on him. The large burly man in the opposite gang staggered back, face contorting in pain. He was clutching his bicep, where the bullet was now firmly lodged. Blood was pouring down his skin and seeping onto his dark green shirt. He forcibly tore off the long-sleeve on the wounded arm and tied it around the area, trying to reduce the blood flow and lessen the pain, but Nas-San was still unsure if he could continue.

Chang-Sun was angry. He hissed, "**You can bring a gun, but we could barely get knives. That's unfair.**"

Man-Su turned and shot the speaker in the thigh. His howl of pain echoed into the night. He staggered back and leant against the wall, Jung-Keun beside him and clenching his fists. His fellow members narrowed their eyes at the shooter, whilst those allied with the older man merely smirked. He spoke, his voice patronising and gritty, "**Life is unfair, kid. Deal with it.**"

Hwoarang, although infuriated at the turn of events, calmly murmured to Razer beside him, "Get Nas-San and Chang-Sun back to the hideout and treat them. Now."

Not daring to speak, she merely nodded and put her knife away, slinging one of Chang-Sun's arms around her shoulders, and looking at Nas-San. They left quickly before the fights began again, and both she and Devil were very surprised that none of Man-Su's men, let alone the man himself, attacked her as she left with the wounded. It was incredibly respectful, and she took advantage of it by leaving faster with the three of them. She did not miss the leader watching them leave, though.

When they started to go down the small hill, they all heard the fighting start again, including a very angry Hwoarang yell and attack what they assumed to be Man-Su, if his cry of pain was anything to go by.

Man-Su aimed the gun at Hwoarang, hoping for a direct shot, but before he could pull the trigger, the redhead had thrown his arm up and against the wall. Holding it there, he elbowed his adversary in the ribs, before bringing down his face onto his knee. Cartilage shattered and blood dribbled down, and that didn't deter the fights going on around the two leaders.

He tried to take aim again, but this time a kick came, colliding with the hand. The gun skittered all the way down the alley, and his hand was violently trembling in pain. He was on his back, confused and wary. The Blood Talon quickly dropped to one knee and placed the other squarely on Man-Su's chest. He pressed the knife up against his throat, a cruel and cunning smirk on his sweaty face, "**You shouldn't have shot my men.**"

A new stabbing sensation near his knee soon occurred. To Man-Su's surprise, the youth ignored it, even as the battles around them continued. Somewhere, he heard one of his men strike the 'Mother' of the opposing group – and elsewhere, he heard one of the two teams bring down another one of his men. He felt his flesh start to tear underneath the razor sharp metal. He quickly looked back to the youth above him, who is the definition of angry, "**Go on then, kill me.**"

They both can hear feet pattering away, and its here that the redhead has realised that he's won. The opposing men are leaving, and those of his gang that are still here have gathered around the scene, like vultures waiting for the kill. He hesitated, though the knife remained where it was. He could hear old words that he'd ignored as a child, but decided to rush back to him as an adult, now that he was in the moment.

"_**Fight only to defend, not to kill,**__" Baek remarked, looking at his new white belt student, "__**Only if it's absolutely necessary, but even then… Fight to live freely, fight to strengthen and focus yourself… but never fight to kill, Hwoarang. Never ever fight to kill, even if that person is trying to kill you for money, because then you will be no better than him. Where as he would take your money, you would take his life…**__" He nodded, affirming his statement within himself, "__**Never fight to kill. I will **_**not **_**teach you to kill.**__"_

"**What are you, scared?**" Man-Su seethed, edging him on, "**Kill me already! You've won.**"

He took the knife away and stood up and away, shaking his head. He put the knife away and watched as his foe stood, "**I won't kill you as long as you don't harm any of my members or myself again. We can both stay here, nothing says that either of us have to leave. Get up, go back to your home, and take care of yourself. This war is over.**"

Shocked by the 18-year-old's sense of honour and morals, Man-Su shakily turned away and ran. His opponents turned and left in the opposite direction.

* * *

"This hurts like a bitch…" Chang-Sun groaned, eyes shut tight, "Ow ow ow ow ow!"

"Oh stop whining," Razer grumbled under her breath, tending to the wounded thigh.

"I'd like to see how you cope with a bullet in your body!"

She ignored that statement, because she knew she'd be in a similar state to the man, and finally got the little piece of metal out, dropping it to the floor. The fighting had tired her, both physically and mentally. Devil was also trying to break through the cracks, as she thought it was the perfect opportunity to do so. Her voice was like oil on water, spreading throughout the area.

Quickly cleaning the wounded region, she patched it up as best as she could with a large bandaid and a bandage. She heard him mutter an honest 'thanks', followed by footsteps, a hurriedly open door, and happy shouts. She didn't look up, but she could identify that it was the others by their voices. Mijj-Dala spoke, his voice deep and confused, and for once, in English, "How come you didn't kill him, Hwoarang?"

She paused, intrigued.

He answered, "Because I wasn't taught to. Baek wouldn't have wanted me to."

She smiled wholeheartedly, but it soon faded, brought down by the devil within. Annoyed by this and hoping to distract herself further, she returned to tending Chang-Sun. Once done, she stood and brushed the dust off her knees. Nas-San had already been taken care of, and he was having a quick chat with Seong-Hada about the events that had transpired since the three had left the fight.

She retreated to the chair in the far corner of the room, resting her left arm on the arm rest and placing her head in her palm. Closing her eyes, she tried to relax her body, but all she could smell was blood – something that Devil surprisingly enjoyed. She had not shown such a tendency before, and it acted as a motivation to seize control of her host and wreak havoc – something she did not want and something that was not necessary.

Whilst the others decided to get some beer to celebrate the victory (and insisting that Seong-Hada _at least _had a sip to try), Hwoarang noticed her descent into the corner and went over, hands in his pockets, "Everything alright? You're not hurt, are you? Wait, you're holding your head… Does that mean…?"

After a slight nod, she looked up at him with open eyes, "She liked the fighting, and now she wants to come out and have a go. She is becoming harder and harder to hold back. I may have to leave…"

He hesitated for a moment before speaking, "If you have to, then go. Just try and get control quickly and all. Try not to be more than half an hour."

She tried to stay for as long as she could, but when she saw her fingernails morph into claws, she quickly excused herself, going to leave until the transformation passed.

* * *

She lurked in the shadows of the night, red eyes piercing through and observing the area. She was watching a small family with jealousy, seeing the father carry the young child, who was asleep, to their car. The mother was merely smiling. They were _all _smiling, even the sleeping child. It was a life her host never had, but wanted – and it was a life that she herself never had, but also wanted. At least they could agree on _one _thing.

She wanted to crush that happiness; she wanted to take it away and make it her own. She wanted to make them suffer, so they knew what it was like to truly have nothing but hate and anger deep inside. Whilst Devil Razer did try to come out of the shadows to initiate that, she couldn't. She teetered at the edge of the shadows, still hiding, and she wanted to jump out from there and attack – but something was holding her back, and it wasn't her host. She would've known if it was. Besides, Razer can't see anything when she is in control, unless she allowed it to happen.

The family had settled into the car now and were about to drive off. She finally found a bit of will to do some damage, at least. But she still could not move from the shadows, and so instead, she focused all of her energy into the red gem in the centre of her forehead. Once all the power was up, she fired a laser beam, watching it crash straight through the back of the car. It should've gone through the centre of it. All three occupants got out immediately, watching smoke rise from the vehicle. The mother was holding onto the crying youth, whilst the father was ringing up the police.

Devil Razer wondered what brought her to deliberately misaim. She turned away from the scene and sighed to herself, before holding her head. The real host was trying to claw her way back into the dominant position, and she herself was too tired from the flying earlier, let alone that last beam. She reluctantly gave up and reversed the changes, thinking to herself how nice it would've been if she had a family.

I think you should go home, quickly. Something feels off.

The Greek, now in her human form, nodded a little, both agreeing with the parasite's statement and trying to clear her head of the dizziness at the same time. Stuffing her other hand in the pocket of her jacket, she continued to walk, staring at the pavements. The cracks in the cement were starting to blur together as well. In response, she squinted, trying to see clearly once again.

I smell something, Devil remarked, edgy. She then began to panic, Turn around –

Something heavy and dull hit her in the back of the head before she had the chance. She was out before she hit the ground.

* * *

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the city, Hwoarang had been looking for her. She'd been gone for an hour and a half, and he'd been looking sixty of those minutes. When he returned without her, he was confused and concerned. He opened the door to see SH standing right in his face, worried. Confused, he quirked an eyebrow and said, "**What?**"

He handed him a note, "**This was left at the door about ten minutes ago. I didn't see who it was. I tried to call, but I had no money to reach you…**"

He snatched it immediately and scanned the Hangul sentences:

'_She's gone. She won't come back._

_If you think you're strong enough to get through my men to get to her, then follow the instructions on the back._

_If you want her back safely, then leave this district by 7am. We will drop her off at the station._

_If not, then the next time you'll see her will be in pieces amongst numerous dumpsters.'_

Heart pounding a mile a minute and mind now permanently set in panic mode, he clenched the letter in his hand and bolted back outside. The war was _not _going to take any of his friends.

* * *

He was tired, angry and scared when he managed to get to the front of Man-Su's hideout. The place was dark and it made it harder to see. All he could smell was blood and vomit, and it was making his stomach clench and twist unhappily. It was a tall, abandoned factory, just the outskirts of the city. The rust on the metal parts of the walls and the creak of the door he was opening unsettled him.

There was some light shining in from the office room right up the top, putting faint light patterns amongst the floor and surrounding areas. He looked around and saw stairs leading to the origin of the light, and guarding that area were some of his enemy's henchmen. They were throwing dice, and one was smoking a cigarette. It was him who noticed the redhead's entry, and, surprised, pointed at him, "**Well well well, look who is here, boys…**"

Without a word, he scrunched up and dropped the paper he'd been provided with. He watched as the three approached him. His eyes flickered amongst the trio, whom were all smirking, and started to breathe in and out firmly, trying to get into the right mindset to fend them off. Once they were into position around him, they moved in to attack. In response, he jumped up and struck the two on either side of him. He then using one of them as a stepping stone of sorts, swerved around and kneed the third person in the face, thereafter landing on the ground.

He was struggling to uphold the emotionless mask, because his anger was overpowering, and even his fear was evident. He wasn't letting either of them get to him though, and instead was harnessing it. He weaved underneath numerous kicks and delivered several of his own. He saw the gleam of the coming knife from the corner of his eye, and ducked, sweeping the opposite person off of his feet just in time for the blade to lodge into the direct centre of the guy's head.

The one who was left out of this little scuffle pulled out his gun. Anticipating the move, Hwoarang swung his right leg across his body and kicked it out of his hand, thereafter using the guy as a lever to jump up and grab it for himself. Once squarely on his feet, he cocked the gun and aimed it at the pair of them, only to have one of them aim back. He furrowed his eyebrows and spoke, feeling bolder than usual, "**Go on, shoot. I dare you.**"

He pulled the trigger, but nothing came out. When the man realised this, his face slackened and his opponent smirked – the last face he ever saw. He'd thrown out Baek's teachings, if only for tonight. The smoke drifted from younger man's gun, and though he winced, he robotically turned to the other man, who was just staring at the two bodies around him. He wondered where his other companions were, but judging by the time of night, they were either in their own apartments (if they were lucky enough to have any), with a woman, or getting more cash.

"**Get out,**" Hwoarang hissed.

He did as asked, beads of sweat dripping down his face. Once he was out of the vicinity, he bolted up the metal stairs, his footsteps causing them to shudder, and came to the door. He went to twist the doorknob, only to find that it would not move at all – it was locked. Taking several steps back, all the way to the edge of the platform, he prepared himself for one hell of a kick, hoping that it'd burst through the wooden door. Running forward and leaping into the air to do so, he braced himself for an impact – _any _impact.

To his surprise, he burst through.

Briefly reminded of those action movies, he landed squarely on his feet and pointed the weapon at Man-Su, who was standing at the other end of the room, arms behind his back and head tilted in the same direction. His eyes drifted down from his adversary to Razer, who was tied up and on her knees. She was looking up at him, hope and joy in her eyes, but fear and worry brewing within them as well.

Eyes quickly darting back up to the captor, he gritted out slowly, "**Why the fuck did you pull something like this?**"

"**To get your attention,**" he stated lazily.

Unable to think of a suitable retort, he merely huffed and spoke to the girl without looking, "You alright?"

"The back of my head hurts, it really, really does… He hit me with a crowbar. I'm… still dizzy."

His eyes narrowed, "**A **_**crowbar.**_"

"**What?**" Man-Su asked innocently.

"**I should hit **_**you **_**with a crowbar and see how **_**you **_**like it!**"

"**Why are you so defensive of this woman?**" he asked blankly, "**It is not normal for gang leaders to care about one of them, let alone any. You are a poor example of one, it won't be long before you succumb to the streets and their ways. So, why her? Is she **_**that **_**good of a fuck?**" When his opponent's eyes narrowed, he reposed the question with an eye roll, "**Fine, I get it. Not a prostitute. But answer my damn question.**"

His eyes flickered back to her for a moment before looking back at him, His voice was weakened for a moment, "**Are you blind?**"

He smirked and even chuckled a little, "**No, but she is.**"

Annoyed and antagonised by the statement, he took a step forward and placed his free hand over the one gripping the weapon, "**Untie her. Now. Then let us leave and don't disturb my people again.**"

When he didn't move, Hwoarang took another step forward and repeated the statement, only his voice was edgier and louder. He still did not move, but when he heard the gun click, readying, he pulled out his hands from behind his back and pressed the barrel of his own weapon against his hostage's head. She shrieked a little with surprise and fear, though her captor spoke over the noise, "**I wouldn't shoot if I were you.**"

That did it.

He stopped entirely and lowered the weapon, "**Don't…**"

"**Put the gun in the corner of the room,**" he hissed, "**And don't try anything.**"

He did so, walking backwards to do it. Man-Su put a foot on Razer's back and pushed her all the way down.

"**Good kid. Now I'm gonna present you with two choices… You and her either **_**join **_**me, or you leave and she'll be at the station, unharmed and untouched, at 7am.**"

It was in that moment that the older man's legs were swept out from underneath him, causing him to fall backwards and drop his weapon. The person who initiated the unsuspecting attack stood to her feet and took off with her best friend, shouting above the adrenaline running through their bodies, "Come on!"

He ran too, and when he caught up with her, he pulled out the knife he'd brought – just in case – and cut the ropes from her hands. Once that act was done, he tossed it aside, deeming it as unnecessary, and grabbed her hand, now ahead of her, "When we get home, I want you to lie down for a while and put an ice pack where he hit you, or something like that. Okay?"

They both passed the fallen body. Hwoarang bent down and picked up the paper he'd dropped earlier, realising only now that he'd need it to get back home. He tripped over a little whilst doing so, and jumped when he heard a gun shot from behind. It didn't hit either of them, but it was enough to scare him and her. He heard Man-Su shout before shooting another bullet, which missed, "**Get back here! You're only making this worse!**"

"**Fuck you!**"

Another shot burst through the window they were next to.

"If anything happens…" Hwoarang suddenly found himself saying, "Please… Take care of yourself."

He's terrified… Devil remarked with surprise.

Another shot hit the window pane on the door. There were several murmurs on the other side, one of them rising above them, "**What the shit?**"

Upon hearing the voice, Man-Su yelled back, "**You idiots! The Blood Talon is here, as is the girl! Get them before they get out!**"

Before they could respond or act, one of the doors was thrown open, smashing into most of their faces. One of those who'd been unharmed grabbed the closest one by her hair, trying to pull her back into the warehouse. He was kneed in the crotch in response, and both quickly continued on their way, weaving past the seemingly amassing street fighters.

Edged on by fear, they continued to run that little bit harder and that little bit faster, blindly tripping over the cracks in the concrete and the occasional misplaced item. Both found themselves wishing for Baek to suddenly appear out of nowhere and mop the floor with each and every one of these people, but they knew that their master could not come and save them.

If you keep going towards the hideout, you will lead these people to the others. Are you sure that's wise?

Devil's statement fell on deaf ears.

Suddenly, their hands were ripped apart.

Razer span to see that the Korean had been grabbed by a larger man and restrained. She and Devil spoke in unison, "Hwoarang!"

Hwoarang! You _idiot!_

"Run!" he yelled back.

"I –"

"_Run! _Don't worry about me!"

It was the rueful smile he suddenly had her take several steps back and turn to run again. Though remorseful, there was a sense of 'trust me' and 'I'll be alright'. She trusted him, and she knew he could hold out for a little while, at least until she had some sort of idea. She felt bad turning to run, and Devil would not stop telling her to turn around and go back. She shouted over her shoulder, "I'll go get help!"

Once she was well away and sure that she hadn't been followed, she slumped against an alley wall to catch her breath, her mind racing a mile a minute, _But will the others really help him here…?_

Devil paused, It's the moment to fight.

The Greek ran her fingers through her hair, _What am I doing? This isn't how it should be._

Why is that?

_He came for me… without anybody. He risked his life…_

He loves you. He really, really does. Why do you not accept that?

_He cares. But not like that._

I – there was suddenly a sound that resembled a palm to the head, Look. I am not going to tell you what to do, but –

_Devil._

What?

_I want you to do something for me._

Is it to shut up?

_No. Something better._

She closed her eyes.


	33. Still Alive

Author's Note: …So I think I might've written twenty thousand words over the last _week. _See? All I needed were holidays LOL. Also, you guys, I know you're still reading this and all (despite the lack of reviews), but, I was wondering if you guys actually _wanted _to see that Tekken 6 "Me" Fic on the site. Because, considering the lack of support I'm feeling, and considering that the story is for you guys, most of whom are now absent, I'm not sure I should bother posting it :/ On a lighter note, two more chapters until the end :3

* * *

_**Chapter Thirty-Three: Still Alive**_

_Bang._

He grinned slightly, glaring daggers at Man-Su, "**You missed.**"

He grinned toothily, "**I know.**"

_BANG!_

If Hwoarang hadn't of moved his head to the side, the bullet would've got him. He exhaled sharply.

"**Still think I can't shoot for shit?**" he growled, spinning the gun around in his hand, "**I can. And you're my target practice to hone these skills…**" he passed it to the man next to him, who bowed slightly before leaving the vicinity, rescheduled to guard the entrance. Man-Su grabbed the youth by the shoulder then threw him onto his stomach, thereafter placing one foot on his lower back, "**Though I could totally use you as my little punching bag instead.**"

There was a sharp pain in his back. The Blood Talon bit his lip forcefully, resisting the urge to shout. The noise that came out instead was a combination of a laugh and a grunt, "**I dunno, I'm pretty thin for a punching bag. You might wanna use your fat guy instead. He needs to lay off the pizzas.**"

He was kicked in the thigh, and then rolled over. A punch flew through the air and collided with his jaw, causing his head to turn quickly. He narrowed his eyes as the punisher spoke, "**Hey, let's play a game, Blood Talon…**" With ease, he lifted the youth onto his feet and held him against the wall,"**I'm gonna hit you, and you're gonna tell me something about yourself! You'll answer the questions I ask of you, and if you don't, then I'll cut you.**"

"**You're crazy.**"

Man-Su laughed and pulled out a knife from his boot, spinning it around a little in his hand, "**Whatever. So, what's your name? I only know you as 'Blood Talon' out here, because that's what you've advertised yourself as…**"

"'**Blood Talon' is a nickname from long ago. My name is Hwoarang.**"

"'**Flower Knight?'**" he laughed, punching him in the stomach, "_**Really? **_**What about your last name? I'm gonna laugh so hard if its 'field' or 'garden', because you'd then be like, a flower knight living in a field, or somethin'… God I love word play.**"

"**Maeng,**" he replied, "**It was Maeng when I was a child. Then when my parents died, I was taken in by someone else and given the surname Doo San… his name was Baek**_**.**_"

"**You tryin' to scare me or somethin', kid? You expect me to believe you're **_**the **_**Baek Doo San's apprentice? The one who fought in all of those tournaments, including the last King of Iron Fist Tournamnent? The one who was famous all over South Korea, even the world, before stepping away from the lime light?**"

"**Nah, I'm not trying to scare you,**" he replied nonchalantly, shrugging. He looked at him straight in the eye, maintaining casual conversation, "**I don't expect you to believe something that's true. You can ignore it if you want, but I know I'm telling the truth. You can see it in my moves, because nobody teaches Tae Kwon Do like Baek did.**"

"**The girl too?**"

"**Mhm.**"

"**Hmm,**" after a knee to the stomach and a jab to the shoulder, he asked, "**How old are you?**"

"**I'm eighteen.**"

"**And her?**"

"**Seventeen.**"

Taking a few steps back, Man-Su breathed in and out firmly, before conducting a roundhouse kick to the youth's side. He watched as he buckled forward for a second, exhaling and growling in pain, "**What about the others?**"

He shrugged.

Eyes flashed with annoyance. He waved the knife around, "**Do I have to remind you what happens if you don't answer a question?**" When he was met with no reply, he shrugged and impaled his right arm with the metal, dragging it downwards, and then flicking it out. He looked to Hwoarang, who still said nothing, but was clearly feeling the pain. He was surprised to see some sort of 'acceptance' cross his features as well.

The younger man's sienna eyes were looking past Man-Su and through the broken window. He was clearly in deep thought, wondering if the girl was going to come and save him like he had come to save her. There were other things going through his mind too – what if she came, but he was dead? He never would've…

A loud, male scream broke both of their thoughts.

Hwoarang went to move to the window to see what was going on, but Man-Su would not have it. Throwing him onto the floor, he stood on his back so he could not see, and observed the scene below. His men were being torn to pieces by a single being, one whom had large, black wings, and horns. He swore he could see more details, but from his height, he wasn't sure. All he knew was that the person, a girl, was –

_Holy shit, its –_

She span in a small circle, pushing her wings far out. Devil Razer's claws cut the stomachs of the men trying to fight her with their hands. They'd tried shooting her before, and whilst the odd one or two did hit, it got her large wings instead of her body. They'd since resorted to knives, which were doing more damage.

She leapt into the air at one point, avoiding numerous attacks, and fired a laser from her forehead. It seared through the masses, clawed at the floor and climbed up the walls. She landed, holding her head, and looked amongst the destruction with a grim but pleased face. With a growl, and ignoring the slowly rising flames, she looked at the others, who were merely standing there in shock, Come on, then! Who is next? I _dare _you to try and defy me…

The voice was so loud that even Hwoarang heard it. He let out an almost inaudible sigh of relief.

One man leapt towards her. He was grabbed and then thrown into more men. She smirked, hearing numerous, sickening cracks. Another one came from behind, and before he could pounce, she span and kicked him in the head, putting as much force into her foot as possible. The guy's head span around entirely on his neck. He dropped to the floor afterwards.

"**I'm out of here!**" one of the men said, leaving. He wasn't afraid to admit he was scared, but shit…

Man-Su narrowed his eyes. He picked up Hwoarang by the collar of his shirt and repositioned him on his knees, facing the door. He tried to struggle, but was ultimately cut on the left side of his torso as a punishment. He was regretting giving his gun to his henchman on the way out, he could've used it from this height and shot her. It was only a matter of time.

"**Me too!**"

As they left one by one, she ascended the stairs, reverting to her human form as she went. Gasping for breath by the time she reached the top, she was wholly human again and was breathing harshly. Her eyes narrowed a little when she saw Hwoarang on his knees and wounded; and for a moment, déjà vu struck. It reminded her of not so long ago, when their positions were reversed.

Placing a hand to the right side of her head, she looked to the victim, who was still alive and looking back up at her with numerous, undecipherable look in his eyes. They soon all pointed towards treipdation, because he felt a blade touch lightly against his throat. Man-Su was lording over him and pressing the knife fleetingly against his skin as a form of control to the two people in the room.

To her surprise, Hwoarang spoke, "Why'd you come back?"

She didn't say anything, though inwardly, a tired Devil did, For the same reason you came.

The other male in the room spoke, "Why do you think she came back, Hwoarang? Eh? Because nobody gets left behind."

Green and sienna eyes shot towards Man-Su, who'd spoken in shaky English. The girl asked, "You speak English?"

"Only if I must. Is a good trick, yeah? Keep knowledge to yourself, use only if there's no other way," he smirked and pressed the blade harder, speaking to his fellow man, "Any last words?"

Hwoarang opened his mouth, and then closed it. What was the point? He wouldn't be able to say it anyway.

Surprised by the fact that Man-Su knew any English at all, Razer approached him, trying to think of a way to exploit it. He growled, watching her stop as a result. She put her hands up and shook her head, a smile on her face. When he realised that she wasn't going to attack, he furrowed his eyebrows and watched as she continued to walk, not making any eye contact with his captive. But both knew something.

It took a moment for the devil within to realise that she was going to try and _flirt _her way out of this one. With a disgruntled and almost unidentifiable grunt, she opined, Good luck to you, and if it works, I will forever lose faith in the male population.

She reached towards the hand that gripped the knife and covered it with her smaller one. Running it up his arm, she spoke softly, pulling the weapon away from Hwoarang, "You don't have to kill him or any of the others… We can just run away together. We can leave the streets behind us… Isn't that what you want? To leave this business?"

Man-Su shrugged non-chalantly, not sure of what to say, and also unaware that she'd slowly pried the weapon from his hand. He went to answer, but before he could, something sharp, painful and fast struck him in the chest. His eyes narrowed dangerously. As he looked down, he saw that she'd stabbed him with his own weapon, and was dragging it angrily down his body. It was then pulled out, and with a cruel smirk, quickly slashed across his throat.

Razer then dropped him to the ground and turned immediately, dropping to her knees. She quickly began to cut the ropes that were holding Hwoarang's hands together. Once they were free, she threw both items behind her and threw her arms around him. In return, he placed both of his hands over hers and rubbed the skin affectionately, speaking, "You did it again."

"Did what…?"

"Saved my life. You've done it more than once, physically like this, or not."

"Stop jabbering. The important thing is that you're still alive," she remarked, helping him onto his feet. Slinging one of his arms around her shoulders, she began to quickly walk out of the area, "Fire is really eating away at the rest of this warehouse, so we have got to move quickly, alright? We'll talk about this or whatever when we get home. It would be best."

"Maybe I want to talk now."

She ignored him, now down the stairs and heading towards the exit. The smoke was getting to her.

Once out, he spoke again, "Why didn't you use Devil initially?"

"Because I was still weary from the first transformation. He attacked me right after I returned to my human form."

"Well, why'd you use it now then?"

"Because, I was scared for you and your life, and I knew if I changed to get rid of the bulk, I could take Man-Su on my own… Though I did not expect him to fall for those false advances. And… it wasn't just me. She was worried too."

He couldn't form a reply.


	34. Unity

Author's Note: Back at Uni, sigh. XD This is for Ambie and sousy for making me laugh SO HARD WITH CERTAIN ONESHOT RESPONSES. YOU KNOW WHAT I'M ON ABOUT. Sorry this is short, though, guys; also, one last chapter until the end, HNNNNNNNNGH! I'll then probably take like… 2 – 4 weeks off of this series arc (posting wise anyway) to decide whether or not I'll start posting the Tekken 6 Me Fic. So yeah all of those that actually read it (but don't review, which is cool), I would really love your input on whether I should post it or not right about now etc. Enjoy!

* * *

_**Chapter Thirty-Four: Unity **_

It was a habit he'd picked up from Nas-San, one that she didn't like, but she accepted, because she knew that she couldn't do anything about it. Hwoarang had taken up smoking in the wake of Man-Su's downfall, because he 'liked the image' and was 'curious to try it out'. He lit it up and then slid the lighter into his pocket, aware of one of the younger gang members passing by to enter the hideout.

"**That's a disgusting habit,**" Seong-Hada hissed, coughing because of the smoke, "**You need to get rid of your cancer sticks.**"

He raised an eyebrow at the newly turned 17-year-old, "**Cancer stick?**"

"**My new nickname for them.**"

"…**Right,**" he dropped it to the ground and stubbed it out anyway with his foot. Grinning, he turned and looked to the youth again, who was trying to slink by unnoticed, "**Thanks for the money by the way, **_**Mother.**_"

"…**Money?**" he asked, his voice small.

"**I saw you put money in my wallet before you left earlier today. Thanks for that. It'll come in handy.**"

"**Oh… You're welcome, I suppose,**" he ungracefully dropped himself onto the couch, ignoring the annoyed, tired groan of Nas-San (who'd been lying on half of it) and asked, "**So where are you off to today? More money?**"

He shook his head, "**No… A bit more healing.**"

He nodded a little, knowing what it meant. He watched as Razer emerged from the bedroom, adjusting her black tank top, and smiled.

* * *

A petal smacked him in the face. She laughed at the annoyed face he had thereafter.

The pair opened the rickety gate to their former home, navigating through the long grass with caution. They came to the backyard and immediately looked up at the tree. Running his fingers through his hair, Hwoarang began to climb up it, feeling more comfortable sitting in it than sitting in front of it. His best friend took the opposite approach and moved to sit underneath the shade that the tree provided.

The silence was deafening, but relaxing at the same time. Razer looked up to her Korean friend and spoke, "Hey, remember when we used to kick the soccer ball around here?" A small nod. She gently pushed another memory towards him, "What about when we played hide and seek, and you would hide up there in the tree? You were so good at hiding."

"Yeah, and you'd hide behind Baek. He wasn't a hiding place, you know."

"Pssh, that's what he thought…" After a bit more silence, she added, "Well at the time, he was tall enough to be one. I was what… twelve?"

He snorted, "That still doesn't count, Raze."

Silence.

"Do you ever think… I'll be okay?"

The question threw her off. She looked away for a moment, trying to process it, before looking back at him, meeting his gaze, "What do you mean?"

"What I mean is, do you think I'll ever recovery fully from this? I'm a lot better than I was but, it still hurts… Like, my heart tightens up whenever I think about Baek, or a memory here. And I don't want it to be that way. I want to look back on my times here and laugh and smile about the good. That's how it should be. That's how I _want _it to be."

"Time does heal all wounds… but the attacks that left the biggest gashes on us will take longer to fix. Think about your parents, you still haven't recovered, but you're getting better by the day. The reason it does not hurt as much as Baek does is because Baek was a lot more recent, was in your life for a longer period of time, and judging by what I can see, meant a lot more to you. I understand how you feel…" she hesitated, "…so don't think that you're alone."

Silence crept in again. The Korean eventually spoke, looking up at the sky, "Do you remember the things he used to say?" A small smirk, "Like… 'Sometimes you'll have to fight someone you care about – '"

"'- and they may not show sympathy for you.'"

"Yeah."

"I miss him saying '_language, _kid' to you."

"Shut it."

"Hwoarang… there's something I have wanted to ask you. Do you… regret meeting me? I mean…"

"Whatever excuse you pull out next isn't going to justify your question. I don't regret meeting you. I never did. Not since I woke up to myself. With you, when I look back… on us…" he looked at her again, "I do laugh and smile about the good, like I want to with Baek. I wouldn't trade you or our times together for the world."

She couldn't hold in the smile.

* * *

"…**What the fuck is that?**"

"**A motorbike,**" Nas-San remarked, throwing off the cover.

Hwoarang furrowed his eyebrows, "**…And?**"

"**It's yours.**"

"…**Because?**"

"**Because you turned nineteen not so long ago and you're our leader and need to look flashy on something. Now…**" He grabbed the younger Korean by the back of the shirt and shoved him onto the seat, letting him adjust himself, "**You're going to learn how to ride it.**"

The idea didn't thrill him, but he shrugged and inquired, "**So, where did you find this?**"

"**Oh, around,**" Nas-San replied, standing off to the side, "**Me and the other guys fixed it and all and decided to give it to you for the aforementioned reasons. So…**" He strode over, "**Turn it on, let the engine warm up for a bit…**" he did, "**Kick off that little stick thing…**" he watched as the younger male did, and also adjusted his mirrors, "**Feel around the bike…**"

"**Nas-San,**" Hwoarang began, "**I don't really think I'll be able to do this. I mean look at all of this, the throttle, the brakes…**"

"**Nonsense! You'll do just fine, because you're such a natural at these types of things!**" Whilst he spoke, Nas-San edged his way to the handlebars and twisted them, sending his friend off as fast as he could. He laughed at the unsure, vocal complaints, and shouted, "**Just stay off busy roads and footpaths, kid!**"

He had several sentences prepared in his head to shout back, but he couldn't voice them. His heart was pounding in his throat as he narrowly missed a cat and swerved a corner at the same time. He came to a wider and empty street, managing to pull to a stop in there and find his breath. Looking around the bike, he slowly twisted the handlebar and pushed down various bits and bobs roughly at the same time, trying to get a feel for what each thing did. If he didn't, it would've been a matter of time before he got killed.

Once he understood what each thing did, Hwoarang got a little more confident and decided to gradually kick up the speed. He navigated out onto a road and slowly merged into light traffic, reaching the speed limits and surprising himself with how steady he was. Breathing out firmly, he eyed his mirrors continuously, thinking to himself, _As long as I get out on a road with no people or traffic, I'll be fine…_

Several, nerve-wracking minutes later indeed got him onto the road he'd been thinking of. It was entirely silent aside from the constant hum of the motorbike, and void of all but one parked car. He was no longer nervous, and as he rode up and down the road, u-turning and doing other various things to learn, he felt a large smile and a huge sense of freedom. It only expanded when he got off the road and continued on his way, travelling down different paths. He was a natural at this. He was born to do this.

He felt free. He felt like he could fly, like the hawk they'd said he was.

His sienna eyes looking forward and the mirrors looking back – he was protected and guarded. Nothing escaped his sights. The spinning wheels and the throttle gave him speed, the wind against his face made him feel as though he was indeed flying, the sharp turns kept the adrenaline pumping; and he wished Baek could see how happy he felt deep down inside.

"_If ever you need healing… do the things that make you happy, because they will get the sun to shine through those black clouds, so you can see clearly once again."_

The Korean turned left and began to charge down another long road, and even found the confidence to do a wheelie for a few moments, releasing a whoop of joy and pride. Once he landed the bike again and headed to return to the hideout, a thought swam through his head, reinforced by this act and a new found passion in his new life.

_There's nothing wrong with another family, _he thought, _because families are basically friends, but with blood ties… All are united, and that's fine._


	35. Survive

Author's Note: HOLY FUCKBUCKETS, THE LAST CHAPTER. I admit I'm posting it just to get it out of the way, and I held it back for a few weeks, but hey, it was for a reason! **This last chapter is for TeaC0sy,** because she's been there for me since the start, **and it's her 18****th**** birthday**_. _Happy birthday, sweetie. I hope you enjoy your gifts :P And to all of my readers… It's been a hell of a (great? bad? average? cookie?) ride anyway, so, yeah. Thanks so much for sticking by me. And now, the last chapter :3

* * *

_**Chapter Thirty-Five: Survive**_

_RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!_

Almost jumping off of his chair, the youth sleepily rubbed his eyes and yawned, sitting back up and throwing all of his books into the waiting, open bag by his leg. He heard quiet, stifled laughter behind him, and slightly annoyed by the fact, he turned his head to see another boy looking at him, clearly amused. He narrowed his eyes, "**Quiet, you. That wasn't funny!**"

"**Oh Shin, it was **_**hilarious,**_" the boy responded, pulling out a pen from behind his ear and throwing it into his light grey backpack. He tugged down his maroon beanie and zipped up the bag, stood and ignored the screeching legs of the chair on the school floor.

Shin shook his head, a small smile on his annoyed visage, "**Shut up, Changmin.**"

School was finally over. All that was left to do on this dreary Wednesday was to complete the homework assigned, which fortunately was not a lot today, and then start eating loads of potato chips while playing a couple of games with one another. Such luxuries would not be around for much longer, however, because exams were due to start soon and assignments had to be turned in at the same time.

"**Man,**" Shin began, walking out of the classroom with his cousin, rubbing his face tiredly, "**I can't wait until school is out. Not much longer. Then I can get a job and make millions, while you'll be stuck at University, **_**ha!**_"

Shaking his head and again pulling down on his beanie, Changmin sighed and looked around as fellow students poured out of the classrooms and into the corridor, like a wave. He knew some people and befriended them, but it wasn't quite the same as the redhead that both he and the other boy had become so familiar with in middle school. They missed him a lot, and the girl – both wondered if they were even alive anymore.

It was such a shock when they heard the news of the dojang's destruction. Both boys couldn't form a coherent sentence for hours, and it was Shin who first asked the gossiping man he'd heard it from, who'd announced it, if there were any survivors. He didn't know. They even went around the place to look for them, but they did not find that red hair or those green eyes, and it hurt them.

But all of these years on, they learnt to dull the pain of losing their friends and just move on. The only thing that they knew for certain was that they were _missing, _and to console themselves they had to remind one another that 'being missing doesn't constitute to being dead'. They well and truly believed that, and would continue to believe in it until they saw them again. They'd waited all these years so far, and they could keep waiting if necessary.

And wherever they were, they knew that Baek Doo San was smiling down on them with sincere pride. They missed him too, but unlike their two friends, they knew that he would never come back.

Looking to his left, Changmin noticed a girl – in a skirt – bending over to stuff her books into the bottom locker. He smirked a little and looked back to Shin, who had noticed the same thing, of course, "**Hwoarang would so manipulate that situation further. What do you think he would do – pull the dress up further, pull the underwear **_**off, **_**or just slap her ass?**"

"**Probably slap her ass,**" he laughed, pushing open one of the glass doors. Their school bus was already waiting for them, with a noticeable line, "**Ah, memories…** **Whoa, hey, watch it kid! You almost knocked my hat off! **_**My hat!**_" Not even bothering to wait for an apology, he shook his fist at the perpetrator with a mock-glare.

"**Dude, it's just a hat,**" Changmin remarked.

He hissed, "**You wouldn't be saying that if someone took off your beanie!**"

"**True.**"

They were waiting in line now for the buses, silent but listening to what the other people were saying.

"**I still don't get how you could've possibly missed that catch,**" one guy said, "**It was like coming right for your chest!**"

Someone else in another conversation spoke, a female this time, "**And I totally bled like, everywhere –**"

Another male in a different chat, "**I still think the chord progression would be better if it was C D C A, not C A C D…**"

Another girl, an alternate discussion, "**I wonder who they are, over there across the road… The boy's really cute! That girl's lucky to have him. And a **_**motorcycle! **_**Wowwww.**"

Rolling his eyes, Shin followed the girl's line of sight. It landed on a boy and a girl across the road, sitting on a large, black motorbike. The boy was leaning back a little, and the girl had her chin on his shoulder, her arms lazily draped around his waist. Both were watching him – their eyes were _directly _on him. He squinted to see red hair – and –

_No. Fucking. Way._

"**He used to go to the middle school that a lot of the other kids here went to,**" another girl replied, "**I don't quite remember his name though. He used to be somewhat of a bully but, it was really him just keeping others away because he didn't want them to get close or something. He's actually not bad. The girl is his best friend.**"

Changmin looked to Shin, whose jaw had almost hit the floor. Confused by his expression, he looked in the direction he was staring, and unintentionally mirrored his cousin. He swallowed hard, before looking to his cousin. Both dared to raise a hand each and wave at them, seeing if they'd respond, and held their breaths.

Hwoarang nodded at them before placing both of his hands on the handlebars, whilst Razer raised one hand and lazily waved back.

One of the teachers interjected, trying to usher them into the now waiting bus, "**Come on then, in we go!**"

They began to turn back into the road, aiming to leave.

"**N… No!**" Shin suddenly burst out, "_**No!**_"

Both he and his cousin stepped out of the line and began to bolt across the road, but were promptly forced to take several, bounding steps backwards when a car almost hit them. Ignoring the 'watch it, stupid kids!' that derived from the rushing, male driver, they weaved through the traffic to try and get to them, ignoring the shouts of the teachers.

They both made it to the other side of the road unharmed and continued trying to run after them. Changmin soon enough gave up, tired, and watched Shin continue his way towards them. He kept edging himself on, murmuring under his breath 'gotta keep going gotta keep going gotta keep going', but no amount of mental preparation would help the burning in his legs. He gave up at the corner, knowing he could not catch them and that it was stupid to try in the first place.

Shin spoke, huffing, "**Why did they go…?**"

Changmin had since appeared a few feet behind him. With a small smile, he placed a hand on his cousin's shoulder, staring straight ahead of himself, "**I don't know. But the important thing is we now know that they're alive, that they're okay and that they're still around.**"

"**But we've waited for so long…**"

"**At least… they're surviving,**" Changmin remarked, "**And when they're ready, they'll come back.**"

The sun shone down on a beautiful, Seoul day.

* * *

The rays lightly kissed the skin of a silent, reminiscing pair, sitting outside a McDonalds store.

"They have grown," she said softly.

Hwoarang grinned, took another long sip from his coke and thereafter blew hair from his face, "I know. They're looking well too. I'm kinda surprised though that both still have that fascination with their head gear. I mean what, is that just to tell them apart? Pssh… It's not like they're twins or anything! Shin's the one with the higher cheek bones, and Changmin's the one with the rounder cheeks…"

He is one to talk about 'head gear', Devil chuckled, referring to goggles around his neck. A sudden, annoyed grunt had her interests shift from the man's neck to his hair.

He was running his fingers through it, trying to comb it out of the way of his eyes. The Korean's other hand was grabbing his goggles and starting to pull them up and over his face, so he could keep the flaming hair back, "I hate how long my hair is getting. I seriously do. I don't know why you like it so much…" he looked up at her, able to see much clearer now that it was being pushed back, "I only keep it at this length because of you."

Razer tilted her head a little, a small smile blooming, "And why is that?"

He hesitated for a moment before mumbling, "To make you happy."

She reached out to pull on his hair, the smile wide and full now, "You're silly, you know that?"

He swatted her hand away and ducked his head down a little, "Hey!"

"Your hair doesn't make me happy, you do."

He smiled a little and looked down, "…Razer? Can I ask you something?"

She readjusted her gaze to the can of coke in his shaking hands, "Yes."

"Do you think… we'll always be like this?"

She paused for a moment, "Can you clarify what you mean by 'this'?"

Oblivious. He means oblivious. He means dancing around one another holding out your heart, but there is ink in both his eyes and yours, and neither of you can see what is being offered. He means being forced to look at one another, wanting, but never reaching out and... _taking,_ as she spoke, she indeed mirrored a reaching out and grabbing action in her host's mind.

He looked up and smiled a little, but Devil noted how it appeared he was in pain inside, "Best friends as always, you know that type of stuff."

She smiled too, "Of course."

He reached out one hand across the table and grabbed hers with it, using the other to raise the coke to his mouth, having it linger for a bit, "Whatever problems happen, we'll work them out together."

She grasped his hand with all of her might.

* * *

"Here's dinner!" Seong-Hada smiled, placing nine small, oval bowls on the countertop. There was some left for him in the pot, and as he watched his friends gather around to grab one for each of them, he heard Ki-Yerr question him on all of the good food, "We made enough money for me to cook up a large meal. I've even put some aside for tomorrow. Don't eat it too fast, we have fights soon – Hwoarang, don't talk with your mouth full."

"**Wht, hv – **_OW!_" Their leader, hopped around on one foot for a bit, having slammed it into a wall by accident. Abandoning the rest of his sentence, he began to shovel down the delicious food, hoping to get out and start fighting as soon as possible – once the food was digested, of course. He noticed that the others were taking the same stance. The money was quite important.

"**Maaaaaaaaaan!**" Roh-Hwang chimed, petting his stomach, "**This food was awesome, Seong-Hada!**"

"**Thank you,**" he remarked with slightly narrowed eyes, "**Next time I'll make sure it's horrid for you.**"

"**Is your snarky attitude still about last night?**"

"**Of course it is! …But it should go soon, I hope…**" the 17-year-old had been sleeping very peacefully last night when at three in the morning, Roh-Hwang bumbled in with an already half-naked prostitute – a bra, an extremely short skirt, and with one shoe on – and then had the nerve to ask if they could borrow his bed. He declined, of course, forcing them to move out into the street instead, but that particular topic was still sensitive.

The time came for them to go their separate ways and cover more ground. Hwoarang took Razer, Seong-Hada, Han-Geong and Roh-Hwang into a particularly wide alley, one that connected two main streets. He gave Nas-San control of the others, and had Chang-Sun, Jung-Keun, Ki-Yerr and Mijj-Dala go to the other side of town, and ordered them to come back by one or so in the morning.

Stars glittered in the black blanket. The moon gave them light to see the people slowly come together. Fat, thin, white, Asian, men, women – they had all come, dressed in their own unique styles. The Blood Talon noted a particularly heavyset man dressed in black and white standing in the direct middle, fists clenched with obvious visions of glory. He immediately knew that he would step up some time soon.

There were three lanky, bony men, dressed in tight, black jeans and sleeveless black shirts. They were the obvious remnants of Man-Su's gang, but the obvious uncertainty in their eyes indicated to him that they would not step forward today. After all, it was him and his members that put them out of business – and if they wanted to join him, he would not accept them. Not after all of the fighting and pain they'd put his friends through.

The muscular man next to them stepped out and pointed at Han-Geong, asking for a fight. They began. As they did, there was money exchanged and given to Seong-Hada, and general silence from the spectators. As the blows were exchanged, more people slowly came, the most recent being a young male and an even younger, shorter, smaller female.

He didn't know why those two interested him so much, but he turned to look to Razer when his name was called, "Mm?"

"Do you think that we'll be doing this type of stuff forever?"

"Doubt it. But for now, it's what we gotta do. And you gotta do what you gotta do, one day at a time, to survive. It might not be honest, but… it's all we have."

Both of their heads snapped back to the match, where two gurgled cries got their attention. Han-Geong was thrown to the ground, but both people knew it was an act. He coughed and put up a hand, indicating his surrender, before standing and brushing the dust off of himself shakily. Money was exchanged and panned out to the masses appropriately, before the blue-haired man called for the next person to have a go at whoever, and to 'please bring all your weapons to me' because 'they're not allowed!'.

"Besides," he remarked, smiling at her fondly, "What doesn't kill us can only make us stronger, right?"

Razer laughed a little and nodded, "Yeah… Yeah."

How we survive is what makes us who we are.

* * *

Author's Note: The end! The end! The end of this god damn arc! Jk. Or am I? Lol ;3 Thank you so, so much for sticking by me. You guys have been with me since the start, through my ups and my downs, and I really can't thank you enough. You're all amazing. All of you. You've done so much for me, I just wish I could return the favour. And I've got so much to say.

First thing's first, if, _**IF**_ I do post the Tekken 6 "Me" Fic, it will be off of **Jin's Prologue** (you guys all remember that, right? :P). So for those who haven't, go check it out so you know what'll be going on and such if I do post it. Secondly… Remember that atrocity known as _"Just Like Me"_ that I wrote about three years ago now and started posting? Well guess what? It's been slowly revamped and rewritten :P i.e. I've replaced the old, shit chapters with shiny, newer ones. It's not entirely finished, but it's getting there. I was hoping to have it all done by the time I got here but, you know, motivation and stuff and Uni etc. I've done twenty-five chapters so far, so, nearly… XD. I did that because firstly, I hate how it reads now, and secondly, for those who've only just joined me, they have something nice and new to read :) Lastly, I've been getting some art on the series (no not fanart. Commissioned. Cos I/AmberAnodyne/etc can XD), so, if you wanna head off to my profile to check it out, they're there :P They mainly feature Razer and Seong-Hada, though, cos, you know you love 'em ;) XD

And now for the giant thank you's, as always XD:

_TeaC0sy:_

You know, you're the only reader who has gotten a big, fat thank you note at the end of every "Me" fic, right? XDXDXD Cos you're just that awesome :P I fear I'll be repeating myself like at the end of the last three stories, but, thanks for sticking by me. You've done so much for me and I hope you'll stay with me for many years to come. You're an epic writer, an epic artist (yes. I still have that picture. Why? Cos I fucking love it) and just overall an epic best friend. I know we don't talk as much as we used to (FUCK YOU COLLEGE/UNI. MAINLY UNI NOW. ETC.) but I will never forget the days where we'd speak for hours on end, and I treasure the times we do have to speak to each other now. I'll always be there for you and do everything in my power to help you out, make you smile or just make you lol XD

By the way… **Happy birthday **:P xoxo

_AmberAnodyne:_

Oh shi – ! It's you again! Again, thanks for sticking by me and letting me bitch about this to you. Though, I finished this so long ago now that I actually don't remember bitching about it, BUT I KNOW IT HAPPENED XDDDDD. Anyway. Do get a jet up your arse and start "Reckless Hearts 2" :P BY THE WAY YOU GUYS, GO READ AMBERANODYNE'S "RECKLESS HEARTS". THIS IS NOT A SHAMELESS PLUG/ADVERTISEMENT XD But back to the Amber-centric stuffs. Thank you thank you thank you. You're amazing. I wish I had more to say but I don't. But know this, I can see your msn icon flashing at the bottom of my screen as I write this :P XD xoxo

_And for the fourth time, my beta:_

O HAI THAR SIMPLE PERSON. Thanks for readin'! And thanks (especially) for coming with me to that Tekken Tournament/Fanfic Competition (lol you guys, I came third in that tournament, and I **won** that fanfic comp. Was an FF7 fanfic called _"Hero"_. Woooooo!). Much appreciated, your support was so, so appreciated :3 If it wasn't for your encouragement, this fic/arc wouldn't have happened. So, for my success, I have you to thank :) I won't put xoxo in yours, cos I know you're not like that, so, have this: -brofist-

And for the rest of my loving fans, THANK YOU: Esther-Diana, Angelic Hellraiser, HOIME G (dunno what happened to you, but, I hope you're well!), [[=story+time=]], Sei Honou (where are youuu! I miss you!), Dynasty021, spongecake 2 (hey ho, thanks a bunch :3 Thumbs up to you!), Silent Blaze, Fraulein Leni, Danko Kaji (BAEK! BAEK! XDXDXD), LIZ-Buff, arne0107 (you there good sir! Update your fic, and please be safe!), AngelEyes87 (thanks a bunch~!), Elizabeth Hardman, Hidden Fan, risefromgrace16, and last, but not least, the anonymous reviewer who seriously left me no name to thank her/him personally by, but I do have something to say to her/him:

**THANK YOU.**

Seriously. If "_Whisper For Me_" (the Tekken 6 Me fic – oh look at that you guys, you've got a title to possibly look out for. My mistake :P) does go up onto FFN, which **WILL NOT **follow canon Tekken 6, it's because of you. Your words of kindness in my hour of need will not go unanswered, somehow. Aside from my regular posse of fans (however tiny they are at the moment), it well and truly felt like I was wasting my time writing it (and even finishing up on TMB). And then you came along and essentially reminded me that none of this was in vain. I know you probably feel like you didn't say or do much, but you did something huge for me. So, thank you. I don't know if you're a hugger, so you get a cookie instead –gives cookie-

And with that, I basically take a break from the Tekken section for a while. Not long, just a while. I _will _update **I Will Not Bow** soon, I hope, because I seriously need to update that thing. In addition, I'm starting to get a 'foothold' of sorts in the Kingdom Hearts section – I've almost completed my first multichap there, and I have plans for a few more, so I'll be hopping between those sections ;) And again, you guys. Thanks a bunch, and take care of yourselves…!


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